If You're Going Through Hell
by kr424791
Summary: Everyone is gone, dead. Derek and Lydia are the lone survivors, wondering how they will continue on or if it even is worth the effort. A familiar voice calls from the land of the dead with an idea to bring them all back, and Derek embarks on the adventure of an after-lifetime. Mild, slow-burn Sterek among others (mostly canon compliant).
1. Proposition from the Dead

**If You're Going Through Hell**

Synopsis: Everyone is gone, dead. Derek and Lydia are the lone survivors, wondering how they will continue on or if it even is worth the effort. A familiar voice calls from the land of the dead with an idea to bring them all back, and Derek embarks on the adventure of an after-lifetime.

A/N: Doing a little bit of minor editing. No changes to the story itself, just fixing some mistakes that have been bothering me.

Chapter 1: A Proposition from the Dead

Everyone dies. It's a fact of life, and one that he was all too familiar with. It had been forced upon him 10 years ago when almost his entire family (and pack) had been murdered by Kate Argent. And it seems like it has never truly stopped since. The city of Beacon Hills was littered with the bodies of those he cared about. His sister, Laura, killed by an out-of-control Peter as he struggled to regain himself after the fire. Then Peter, by his own claws; though, he didn't remain dead for long the first time. Derek had barely even been an alpha before he experienced a new dimension of loss too, the deaths of his betas Erica and Boyd. They had lost Aiden and Allison during the standoff with the Nogitsune, the first devastating losses for most of his new allies. And then things cascaded out of control. The Deadpool saw the murder of dozens of supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills, many that he didn't even know were there. The Dread Doctors brought more senseless slaughter not long afterwards. They had managed to escape the Wild Hunt relatively unscathed (something that should have been impossible), but in its wake came the Anuk-Ite, driving the town mad with fear. The Primal Pack, Satomi's Pack, Brett, Lori, and countless others had lost their lives in the aftermath.

If that had been the end of it, he probably would have been alright. But, though the Anuk-Ite had been destroyed, the fear and the damage it caused remained. The people of Beacon Hills knew the Supernatural existed, knew that _they_ existed, and it wasn't long before many redoubled their efforts to kill them under the leadership of Monroe. Isaac had returned, bringing news that the Skinwalker's refuge in New Mexico had literally been bombed by Hunters. Everyone there had died, even the powerful Kitsunes Noshiko and Kira. Isaac would have been safer if he had stayed away though; barely two weeks after his return, Jackson found what was left of the young wolf's body behind the movie theater. He was never quite the same after that, for the brief time he was still with them. Jackson had tried to track the ones responsible for Isaac's death alone. He was successful in finding them, but they were the ones who survived the confrontation. Ethan felt the death of his mate every bit as much as he had the death of his brother, and it was too much for him to take. He withdrew, refusing to eat or speak, until one night he disappeared altogether, leaving no trail they could follow. They all felt their bond with him permanently sever two days later.

Most of the pack had decided to go into hiding, hoping to wait out the confrontation and avoid any more losses. But death still found them regardless. Monroe managed to release some sort of toxin in Beacon Hills; they still don't know exactly what it was or how it reached them. But it did. The humans were not affected by it physically, but the wolves were severely weakened. All of the others, with the exception of Theo, were dead within a week. It still pained him to think of Stiles, Lydia, and Mason outside working themselves to exhaustion to give Parrish, Corey, Hayden, and Malia a proper burial while the rest lay inside too weak to even stand. Like with Ethan, the death of Malia sent Peter spiraling. He sought out the Nemeton before the others could stop him, though why remains a mystery to them all. Derek had been the one to find the body that time, riddled with wolfsbane arrows and cut to pieces, alongside the body of his only other remaining relative, Cora. The sight had been even harder to take in than when he came home after school to find his house and family gone so long ago.

They managed to go almost two months after that before they lost anyone else. A radio program had begun to air from the local station, dedicated to training the townsfolk how to best sharpen their pitchforks and join in the "noble hunt." It also gave updates on Supernaturals and Sympathizers still at large and ones recently "sent where they belonged." It was depressing to listen to, but helpful to know where their enemies' attention was and what was going on outside their hiding place. It was through the radio program that they learned of the deaths of Deaton, Braeden, Morrell, Chris Argent, and Sheriff Stilinski. Melissa had escaped and fled to San Francisco, and they all hoped that she at least would survive. But the raid took place before they could find out.

It was a night like any other, as peaceful as these times could be. One of their alarms began to buzz, a warning that there were intruders nearby. Everyone jumped up to take their defensive positions, but with so few remaining, the Pack was quickly overwhelmed. They began to flee, forced to split into two groups as they tried to escape. Over 100 hunters and people from the city had surrounded them, and they all dreaded that this might be the end. Derek found himself captured, along with Scott and Liam. Mason was killed in the battle. The three trophies were taken to what Derek assumed must be the new hunter's headquarters downtown. The next three weeks were a blur of torture, pain, humiliation, and demands. They wanted the rest of the pack, wanted to know where they were, wanted to know how to finish them off once and for all. They held out though, not one of them gave away a thing, and for that Derek was especially proud, both of himself and his younger friends. In another lifetime the three would have been the core of a formidable pack, one that would have far surpassed the Hale Pack he grew up in.

When he was captured, Derek fully expected that his story would end there. What he never would have imagined is that the most unlikely trio in the world, Stiles, Lydia, and Theo, would mount an absurd rescue mission to try to free the captured half of the pack. But they did, those fools. And what's even crazier is that it almost worked. He awoke to the sounds of klaxon blares, gunfire, and shouts all around him. The power had been cut, stopping the electrical current that had run through his body for almost a month. He was soon free of his shackles, and guards, and helping the younger wolves to their feet when their three rescuers arrived, Lydia screaming her way through the door. They were forced to split up during their escape, Derek managing to make it out with Stiles and Theo while anxiously waiting, hidden, for the others. He knew something was wrong long before he saw Lydia struggling to drag an unconscious Scott out of the building. They had been ambushed, she told them, and she and the wolves had done their best to fight the onslaught. But Liam had not survived and Scott had been badly injured. Theo had always been a loose cannon, and the death of Liam destroyed the last of his self-control. He darted back into the building before they could stop him, the snarls and screams carrying from deep inside the building. Derek and Stiles took over getting Scott to safety while Lydia did her best to remain upright. He desperately wanted to go in and drag the Chimera out, kicking and screaming if necessary, but he was still too weak from captivity to be much help and felt uneasy leaving the human and banshee to protect their unconscious alpha alone. The decision was soon made for him when the building exploded, incinerating Theo and everyone else inside.

The once mighty True Alpha pack had been dwindled down to four members, only two of whom were actually werewolves. They didn't have to say anything, it was obvious they could not go on much longer. All of their allies, all of their friends, all of their families were either dead, captured, or impossible to reach. They were alone. And it terrified them. The only thing that really kept them going was Stiles. The young man had experienced true horrors in his short life, just like the rest of them. Perhaps even more so, because of his time possessed by the Nogitsune. The loss of his father and some of his closest friends had obviously taken its toll on him. But Stiles was their rock, their anchor. He kept them smiling when it seemed like they never would be able to again. He tended to their wounds with his own special blend of Druidic and medical knowledge, making sure they healed even when body parts had been amputated and organs were falling out. He forced them to eat, and drink, and sleep, making sure they were as strong as possible and ready as possible to fight whatever battle was going to come next. While he would never admit it to anyone, Derek had slowly fallen for the boy. Perhaps that was why his death hurt the most of all.

They had been on the move again, always on the move, always trying to stay one step ahead of the hunters that were ever on their trail. They had been scouring the woods well outside of Beacon Hills proper for a new cave to hide out in, Stiles providing the usual background chatter to lighten the mood. It was the sudden silence that told them something was wrong. The image would forever be ingrained in Derek's mind; he doubted he would be able to forget it even in death. He had whipped around to ask what Stiles was about to say next and instead caught the smell of fear and blood and pain as he saw an arrow sticking out of the young man's throat. He began to choke as he fell to his knees, Scott and Derek racing to catch him as Lydia stood in horror, hands covering her mouth while tears began to fall. More arrows began to fly around them, and they quickly dragged the boy behind the cover of a thicket as Lydia turned in the direction of their attackers. The scream was the most bloodcurdling he had ever heard her give, rupturing both his eardrums even though she was facing the opposite direction and levelling a few dozen trees in front of her. They did eventually find the body of the three hunters who had attacked them, but not before they had to watch helplessly as the life drained out of Stiles eyes. He gave one last small smile, clasping each of them on the shoulder in a silent good-bye before he stopped breathing and slumped to the ground. More hunters arrived, and they were forced to abandon his body and take off in desperation once again.

Scott finally came undone at that point. He had been strong to the end. He had lost the first love of his life, he had lost friend after friend, he had seen other friends turn against him, he had endured unimaginable pain, he had done the impossible and rose on his own strength of character to become a True Alpha, he had lost his own beta and so many other members of his pack. And through all of it he had remained strong, he had remained their leader, their alpha. But Scott could not endure losing his brother. Stiles had been with him since the very beginning of his supernatural journey, had guided him every step of the way and supported him against all odds, even when no one else would. Stiles had fought for Scott, loved Scott, the two had been inseparable practically since birth. And so, as heart-wrenching as it was, Derek understood why Scott did it. In truth, he was very tempted to do the same. The pain had become too much, the loss had become too much, and in the end, Scott took his own life.

The discoveries of Stiles and Scott's deaths were cause for celebration for most of Beacon Hills. With the alpha and his second out of the picture, things seemed to calm down. The radio program was still aired of course, and the danger was far from over, but most people seemed content to let the omega wolf and banshee hide out in the woods without feeling a need to actively find and kill them. Derek and Lydia took up residence in a secluded section of the Preserve that was next to impossible for humans to get to (he had carried her, protesting all the way, in order to get them to it). Life became very dull for the last supernaturals in Beacon Hills. The days passed by slowly with nothing to do except stare at one another and listen to the short wave radio they had managed to find. Days became weeks, and weeks eventually became months. Life in the rest of the world moved on, and only the die-hard hunters remained active. They had spent nearly six months alone, just the two of them, when Lydia made a declaration that would change the course of history.

"I want to go to the Nemeton."

Derek had very nearly been asleep, lounging on his favorite patch of grass near the stream that flowed through their little sanctuary, but the girl's words had him wide awake instantly. "Why?" he spluttered, after taking a moment to make sure she was serious.

"I don't know," Lydia replied, eyes glazing over slightly as she rested her chin on her hand, "I just feel like I need to go there, like there is something waiting there for me."

"Yeah, there's definitely something waiting there," Derek snorted derisively. "Hunters," he added, seeing the look of confusion on her face, "they've had the Nemeton under surveillance forever, or did you forget what happened to Peter and Cora?"

"No, I haven't forgotten," she said incredulously, "I remember them all. Banshees feel death far more acutely, in case you've forgotten." Derek remained silent, melancholy feeling slowly increasing. "Actually, I think that might be why I want to go there."

"Lydia," Derek started carefully, "if you feel like someone is going to die at the Nemeton, then that is the exact reason why we shouldn't go there."

"No, that's not it," she said with a huff, "it's more like, someone wants to come back from the dead, or speak from the dead. I don't know, I've never felt like this before, but I know I need to go to the Nemeton for whatever this is."

Derek gave her a small, knowing smile. "Lyds, I would give anything to bring them back from the dead, or even just to talk to them again. But we both know it doesn't work like that."

"But it does," she said, eyes lighting up slightly, "Peter came back from the dead, and the Darach was going to die before she was saved by the Nemeton. Some of the Chimeras that Jordan took to it were also resurrected. It actually has quite a recurring history of doing this."

Her excitement grew with each breath, and Derek could tell that there was not going to be any way of changing her mind now. "Fine," he said, smirking at the triumphant look on her face, "but if we are going to do this, we do it my way. We're safe here, and I'm not about to go rushing into danger and lose the only friend I have left."

Lydia looked touched by his words. The werewolf had already said more in this conversation than he had in the past two weeks, and she knew that showing any feelings at all was incredibly difficult for him. "I agree. We need to be careful and make sure no one knows we are there, or where we've been."

"I'm only going to ask this once, and I want you to be completely honest with me," Derek had an indecipherable look on his face as he spoke, gaining her complete attention, "are you absolutely sure this is something we need to do?"

Lydia stared intently at him, almost like she was staring through him, before resolving herself and answering. "Yes. I'm not sure yet what this is or what it means, but I _know_ that I have to go to the Nemeton. There's something, no, some _one_ , there calling to me."

Derek sighed, confident that, while Lydia knew what she was doing, they were likely to not survive this trip, even with the decreased presence of the hunters. "Alright, you stay here and pack whatever you think we will need to take with us, I'll start scouting around the area to make sure no one else is nearby."

They each set about their respective tasks. Lydia was done quickly; in truth, after spending most of a year on the run living in caves and abandoned buildings, they had very few possessions with them anymore – a few weapons, cooking utensils, some herbs and things Stiles had used for healing and protection, the "bag of memories" containing pictures and objects from their fallen friends, and the radio. It all fit into two backpacks and Lydia had them packed within an hour. Derek, on the other hand, remained out scouting until nightfall, finally deciding that the way was as clear as it could be for them to begin their journey.

It was a slow one. The Nemeton was not far away, but Derek refused to take any risks, so between creating false trails, doubling back several times, scouting ahead to make sure the path was safe, and occasionally leaving the ground to jump from tree to tree, it took the better part of a week to finally reach their destination. Lydia had steadily grown more impatient as they got closer, finally taking off altogether on her own when they got close to the Nemeton's clearing and forcing Derek to give up his stakeout and follow after her. There was an electric buzz in the air as they got close to the Beacon, and it made Derek uneasy. His instincts were screaming at him to run, that they were walking into a trap, but he did his best to quiet his inner wolf and follow the banshee's lead.

That is, until the banshee suddenly stopped and gasped. Derek was in front of her in a flash, guarding her from whatever it was that caused the reaction. In truth, he didn't know what it was. They had reached the edge of the Nemeton's clearing, the stump of the once majestic tree still dominating the landscape and the electric humming in the air more intense than ever. The surprise, though, was that they were not alone. A solid, black thing rested on top of the stump. Derek couldn't tell what it was, and his brain went into overdrive trying to process what he was seeing and why he hadn't sensed the presence before they got this close. Before he could finish figuring it out though, the thing seemed to realize they were there, and it spoke.

"Oh my Gawwwwd, it's about time you got here," the voice was oddly familiar, but Derek was too stunned to place it. He heard Lydia inching forward behind him and stuck out his arm to try and stop her. The thing on the stump didn't move, but did continue talking, "do you know how long I've been waiting here? Of course you do, that was a stupid question. But do you know how hard it has been to just sit here, for a whole week, with nothing to do and no one to talk to, while I waited for you? I mean, come on! I've never been able to sit still for like two minutes. I practically died all over again just from boredom!"

The thing seemed to be quite amused by its statements and began to laugh. The laugh is what brought Derek back to reality. _No, it couldn't be,_ he thought to himself as he heard Lydia behind him whisper the name aloud. "Stiles?"

"Yep! In the flesh. Well, not exactly, obviously. But it is me!" Derek could not believe it, could not contain his joy at hearing the young man's voice again. In that moment he didn't care if it was a trick, if he was going crazy, he was just so happy to be around his lost packmate. He leapt forward into the clearing, intending to wrap up the thing in a crushing wolf-hug, but as he tried to pounce on it, he found himself flying through whatever it was and landing in a heap on the other side of the Nemeton.

"Dude, are you okay?" he heard Stiles ask as he looked back up, determining that the thing speaking with Stiles' voice was made of some sort of black mist. "Yeah," he continued, as if reading Derek's thoughts, "I'm not a real boy anymore, no body or anything like that. You won't be able to touch me while I'm here. I also don't have a heartbeat anymore, so your lie detector won't work either!" He said it with such carefree nonchalance, as if this was a regular, everyday occurrence, that Derek could only look on in wonder.

"How are you here?" Lydia asked, at some point having made her own way to the middle of the clearing and now tentatively prodding the mist with a finger, studying the thing in front of her.

"That's a really long story," the Stiles-mist said, turning to face her (maybe, it was hard to tell if it even had a face). "The short version is that I stole the body of a demon and used its powers to come up here and talk to you guys." Derek could hear the smug expression that would be Stiles' face, if he still had one, and he felt himself wanting to laugh and cry at the same time.

"You stole…what?" Lydia spluttered. The Stiles-mist began to cackle again, and Derek found himself chuckling along with him. Lydia looked more bemused than amused, but he could see the twinkle in her eye that gave away how she really felt. "You know what, never mind. It's probably better if I don't know."

"You're right about that," the Stiles-mist replied, regaining his composure. "Man, it's good to see you guys again. I've missed you both so much." Derek felt something inside him break at the simple statement. All he could do was nod in agreement.

"We've missed you too Stiles," Lydia said for the both of them, a single tear trailing down her cheek. "I wish you were still here with us, all of you."

"Hmm. That's actually what I came here, and waited for an ENTIRE WEEK here on this stupid stump, to talk to you about." Even though there was no real face to look at, Derek could instantly tell that the trademark mischievous look accompanied the statement.

"What are you plotting?" he asked, trying to conceal the hint of a grin beginning to form.

"Wellllll, I might have an idea." Derek and Lydia stood in silence, waiting for the Stiles-mist to continue. "I think I've figured out a way to bring the pack back to life, at least the majority of…"

"What!" Derek yelled in excitement, "You can come back? All of you? When?"

"Hold on there Sillywolf. I can't promise that it'll work, or even if it does that we can get everyone back."

"But you think you can, right?" Lydia interjected quickly.

"Yeah, I think I can," and Derek could tell the smile on the Stiles-mist's nonexistent face must spread from ear to ear. "But I need your help, both of you."

"You don't even need to ask, you know we will help any way we can," Derek said, quieter this time but still excited. This was the first good news they had had in months.

"I'm glad to hear you say that," the Stiles-mist said, mischief lacing his every word once more, "because this is going to be the most dangerous thing we have ever done."

"Stiles," the other two groaned.

"What? I've been dead for six months, cut me a little slack and let me have my dramatic moment!" They simply groaned again at his remarks, a little more subdued this time at the reminder that he wasn't truly with them. "Yeah, I know, that wasn't my greatest come back ever. I guess I'm losing my touch. Anyways, my plan is dangerous, and difficult, and could go wrong in a million different ways, and it could kill you both, but if we succeed the McCall Pack will live again."

"Just tell us what we need to do," Derek said, eager to have a plan of action again after so long, especially a Stiles plan of action. Lydia nodded in agreement beside him.

"Lydia, I'm going to have to walk you through some rituals. They have to take place here at the Nemeton, which is why I came back here. They will only work with the combined powers of a Druid and a Banshee, so I'm hoping I qualify enough for the first part. I should, Deaton taught me quite a bit before we lost him, but if it doesn't work you'll have to find an actual Druid before we can go any further." Lydia nodded her head stoically, as if these statements were simple, everyday occurrences.

"What about me?" Derek asked quietly, almost afraid of what the answer might be.

"I need you to come with me," the Stiles-mist responded, mischievous cackle present once again.

Derek groaned inwardly before asking his next question, knowing the answer was probably not going to be a pleasant one. "Come with you where, Stiles?"

"Why, to Hell of course."


	2. Journey to the Underworld

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi all! So, I know a lot of people have mixed feelings about some of the later seasons of Teen Wolf. I do too. So, for this particular story, I'm leaving it rather open ended. The basic storyline and character introductions are needed from the show, but if you have a headcannon that's different it shouldn't make much of a difference. This story takes place a decent amount of time after the show ends, so it's entirely possible that other things have happened in between the two, some of which will be hinted at along the way. And, well, basically everyone is dead, technically speaking, so there's plenty of room for leeway. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated!

Chapter 2: Journey to the Underworld

"You want…to go…what?" Derek had no idea if the Stiles-mist was being serious or not, but the idea was ridiculous.

"Oh, don't be such a splutterwolf," the Stiles-mist teased, "it's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Derek was incredulous, "Your plan to bring everyone back from the dead begins with me dying so I can go to Hell?"

"What? Not at all. If you die, the plan can't work." The Stiles-mist said it with a touch of glee, before suddenly turning towards Lydia and becoming serious, "That's actually really important Lydia. While Derek is with me down here you have to make sure that his body stays alive, otherwise everything will fall apart and we won't be able to send anyone back."

"Stiles! What are you even talking about?" Lydia looked even more flustered than Derek felt, and that's saying something.

"It's important," he whined back at her, "I promise to send reinforcements as soon as I can to help you."

Lydia took a few deep breaths, concentrating on trying to process what he was saying. "Ok, Stiles, I want you to start at the beginning and tell us everything."

"Lyds, I can't, it'll take too long, and if _they_ notice that I'm up here talking to you we're all doomed."

"Who? What? Never mind, just give us the quick version then," she said exasperatedly.

"Fine," the Stiles-mist retorted, and Derek chuckled inwardly at the pout that must have appeared on actual Stiles' face, "ever since I died, I've been doing some investigating down here. Ran into some interesting people too, but we can talk about that later. I found out that there is a way to bring people who died too soon back to life. It's a bit complicated – they have to be part of our pack, you need some sort of object that belonged to them or reminds you of them, so I hope you brought the bag of memories with you, we need the power of a Druid, a Banshee, and a living werewolf whose spirit has been brought to the Underworld, and it'll take time, because this place is huge and we will have to find each person we want to send back. But, and this is a big but," he paused in his rant to giggle to himself at that, "sorry, that was stupid. But, if we succeed they'll be alive again, and with the whole pack working together it shouldn't be as difficult to either get away from the hunters or put an end to their reign of terror up there…or here, I guess, since I'm up here at the moment too."

Derek and Lydia looked at each other with a mixture of apprehension and exasperation, not sure what to make of Stiles' idea. "Stiles," Lydia eventually began, breaking the silence that had built, "what are the risks involved in all of this?"

"Oh, there are lots of them," he replied ominously, "the biggest one is for you, Derek. In order to get you here, we'll have to separate your spirit from your body, which will be…unpleasant, to say the least. While you are split between the two worlds, if either part dies, your body or your spirit, then that's it, game over, we're done, which means you, Lydia, will have to make sure his body stays alive up here while I'm making sure your spirit stays alive down here. Derek, once we get you here, you and I will have to fight off enemies, sneak around some dangerous terrain, and do who knows what all else in order to find our friends, and we'll have to do it as quickly as possible, because your spirit and body can't stay separated for a long time. And then there's the rituals themselves that we will have to use to send people back. They can be…tricky, and it'll take both of us, Lydia, to make them work, so you and I will have to try and stay in contact while we're down here searching for people. And then there's the unknown variables – I don't know if we can find everyone, I don't know if it'll work for everyone, and I don't know what will happen to their spirits if we try and fail. We could end up doing more harm than good if it doesn't work. Maybe this was a stupid idea. I shouldn't have dragged you guys into this…"

"No Stiles, it's not stupid," Derek interrupted, "it's dangerous, yes, but we've faced danger together before. This is our shot at putting our pack back together, and I will do _anything_ to make that happen."

"Stiles," Lydia said quietly, capturing their attention nonetheless, "do you remember when I told you what my greatest fear was?" Derek was confused, but the Stiles-mist responded with a whispered 'yes.' "Then you know how I feel about this. We have to try. If there is a way to bring any of you guys back, we have to do it."

"Well, if we are all in agreement," the Stiles-mist said, mischievous tone returning, "then let's begin!"

The process of setting everything up was a long one. Fortunately, it seemed that Stiles did count as a Druid, or at least he seemed satisfied that things were working the way he wanted them to. The biggest challenge was that, since he was nothing more than a talking, floating black mist, Lydia had to do all of the actual work, much of which was very detailed and challenging. Derek was very little help, as many of the Druid elements involved included mountain ash, mistletoe, wolfsbane, and other things that he could not touch without suffering from terrible side effects. The smell alone was already causing him problems.

Their first step had been to set up a barrier surrounding the Nemeton's clearing. Apparently, the sudden apparition of the black mist had sent the hunters guarding the tree stump scurrying, Stiles told them with a chuckle. But they weren't naïve enough to believe they would be left alone forever. The barrier would confuse anyone wandering nearby, forcing them to avoid the area. It wasn't foolproof, anyone with a determined enough reason to reach the Nemeton would be able to break through, but it should deter most wandering passersby and give Lydia a heads up if uninvited guests were coming. Derek was sent to gather supplies (firewood, food, water, etc.) for Lydia to use in their absence as a way to test the strength of their deterrent. It had taken all of his willpower and focus to push past the sudden need to drop everything and go to about 15 different places in order to get through.

"Excellent," was the Stiles-mist's reply when he returned, "that should keep this place about as safe as possible then for you, Lyds."

"Why didn't you ever use this while we were in hiding?" Derek asked with just a hint of accusation in his voice.

"I didn't know about it," he answered, sadly, "it's something I learned down here."

"Who taught you all of this stuff?" Lydia asked.

The Stiles-mist chuckled slightly. "Deaton's grandfather," he exclaimed, laughing at their expressions of surprise, "whose name is also Deaton, so that could be a little confusing. _George_ Deaton died about 60 years ago, so he had never met his grandson. He agreed to help me learn more about Druid rituals in exchange for stories about what happened to the Deaton family and Hale Pack after his death. Apparently," he hurried on, seeing that Derek and Lydia were about to interject, "being an emissary to a werewolf pack is often passed down or inherited. The Deaton family were emissaries to the Hales for over a hundred and fifty years."

They chatted some more about what George Deaton had taught Stiles while they returned to their work. With the barrier complete and supplies gathered, they began to prepare for the rituals needed to send Derek's spirit to the Underworld and return the spirits of their dead friends to the Living World. Again, it was complicated work, and the only thing Derek could really do to help was set out the individual objects from their "bag of memories" that would be used as markers for the returning spirits. It was a bittersweet project, since Derek had refused to look at any of it in months. He found himself overwhelmed by the emotions seeing these simple objects brought forth.

"That's good," Stiles said quietly, watching from the stump of the Nemeton, "those emotional connections are needed for this to work properly. The stronger your feelings are attached to these markers, the easier it will be to get the people they belong to back here." Derek sniffled slightly, then returned to his work in silence as Stiles went back to instructing Lydia in designing one of the mountain ash runes next to the Nemeton.

It was slow work for Derek. He kept getting choked up by the memories his task brought up. But he took Stiles' advice and let the emotions surface instead of trying to bottle them up. The first one wasn't too bad, Allison's silver arrowhead that defeated the Oni. Derek had never quite known where the Huntress' loyalties lay, but he knew her connection to Scott and the others had been crucial. The next one nearly crushed him inside though. He reached inside the bag and pulled out Isaac's favorite scarf. He could still smell his beta's scent faintly, even after all this time. They had all given the young wolf grief over it countless times, but seeing it again and picturing the young man who had once worn it with pride took the wind out of Derek's sails. It was several minutes before he could continue. Next came a vial of kanima venom. Jackson had, grudgingly, given them quite a few of these while he was alive, and they had been enormously helpful in slowing down the hunters on several occasions. This one was all that remained of him.

Derek handled the next several markers a bit better. There were the pieces of Kira's broken sword, Liam's lacrosse jersey (he had refused to part with it even when it became obvious he could no longer play on the team safely), Mason's journal (complete with his own research into the supernatural world that was surprisingly helpful), a doll that had belonged to Malia when she was a young girl (it matched the one that had been her sisters that she insisted should stay at the wrecked car), photographs of the twins (one with a cocky-looking Aiden had been thrust into the bag by Lydia when they first had the idea of memorializing their fallen friends, the other of a sappy-looking Ethan had been the only picture Jackson kept in his wallet), then there was a letter that Hayden had written to Liam (he had forbidden anyone to read it when he put it in the bag after she passed away, and they had all kept their promise even after his death), a watch that had been given to Corey by Mason on his birthday (his first birthday present in years, the boy had been a wreck for two days after that), and a card that had belonged to Theo (the pack had all signed it, some more reluctantly than others, and given it to him when he officially joined the Pack). There were a few other simple ones as well (Parrish's nametag, the Sheriff's badge, Deucalion's walking stick, Chris Argent's silver bullet, the gun Braeden had given him, a necklace that had belonged to Lori, and a wristband that had belonged to Brett).

When he reached the last few markers, Derek struggled. The next to come out of the bag was the remains of the shirt Boyd had been wearing when he died. Derek had first kept the tattered garment as punishment for himself, a constant reminder of what he had allowed to happen to his beta. Eventually, though, he had come to find comfort in the familiar smell after the young man's death, and had offered it as the very first "memory" when they began to assemble this odd collection. It took several minutes before he could compose himself to pull the next item out, a small stuffed Catwoman that Stiles had bought after they realized Erica was dead. When he offered it for the bag of memories, he told them he had originally bought it to leave at her grave; but, since she didn't have an official grave, he had kept it as his own memorial for her. And then he pulled out the framed photograph. He had been avoiding this one, working up the courage to look at it. The picture was of his family, the entire Hale Pack, taken three weeks before the fire. Seeing their smiling, happy faces brought back lots of memories, some happy and some painful. Peter had given it to him about two years ago, after they had reconciled some of their differences and come to terms with the past.

The last two were the hardest though. It took every ounce of willpower he had to pull out Scott's inhaler. The memory surfaced easily, it was the day they had first compiled their "bag of memories." They had gathered the various objects left behind by their fallen friends, talked about them and held their version of a memorial service for them, and had just been about to seal it when Scott stopped them and said he had one more thing he wanted to add. They had all been confused when he held out his inhaler and insisted it be included as well, Stiles making a comment about how Scott was not dead and better not be telling them that he was dying. Scott had smiled at the comment, replying that he wasn't dying. Instead, he wanted to include this as a reminder of where they had come from, how much they had changed (for the better) since joining the world of the supernatural. It was a memorial to their past lives, but also a reminder that, no matter how bad things would get in the future, it had been worth it. After Scott's actual death, Derek and Lydia had come to a silent agreement that it would be their memorial to Scott himself as well.

Derek completely collapsed with the last marker. Even though it was the most recent addition to the "bag of memories," somehow the keys to Stiles' Jeep had managed to shift to the very bottom of the bag. The day after his death, Derek, Scott, and Lydia had (cautiously) returned to the place where they had been ambushed in order to retrieve his body. They had been devastated to find that the hunters had carried it off like some sort of prize and denied them the opportunity to lay their friend to rest properly. In truth, it had probably been the final nail in Scott's coffin. They had scoured the woods for hours, but the only thing they could find were the keys to the long since abandoned old Jeep that Stiles had refused to stop carrying around with him.

"Maybe we can resurrect my car along with everyone else," the Stiles-mist eventually said from his perch atop the Nemeton. The sound Derek made was either a laugh or a sob, it was hard to tell which. "Hey now, you all can make fun of her all you like, but that Jeep saved our lives more than any other member of this Pack, she deserves another shot at life," Stiles attempted to sound offended, but he broke off half way through, lightening the tension in the air with his quirky humor. When Derek looked up, he noticed he must have been more distracted than he had realized. The sun was beginning to set, and Lydia had already completed the intricate runes encasing each of the markers he had laid out.

"Stiles," Lydia began as she started to outline the runes around the Jeep keys, tears glistening on her eyelids as she worked, "what about the people we don't have markers for?" Derek looked around at the objects scattered about the clearing, beginning to picture people he would like to bring back who weren't included in this group. _Cora, Laura, his parents, Deaton, Satomi, Melissa (unless she is actually still alive, since they hadn't heard anything for a long time)…_

"I'm not sure," the Stiles-mist interrupted his train of thought, "it might be possible to send some of them back without a marker, though it will be really challenging and could just as easily fail. We might be able to make some of these markers work for more than one person, if we find someone else who had a really strong connection to one of them. Or, if we send a few people back, they could go searching for something we can use as a marker for someone else while Derek and I stay here and continue searching for the people themselves, or spirits in this case."

"What about their bodies?" Lydia asked, seemingly satisfied with Stiles' answer, or lack thereof, "If they come back, are they going to go back to wherever their bodies are? That'd be horrible; some of them are buried, some of them are being held as trophies by the hunters, some of them are in pieces and unrecognizable…"

"No, we don't have to worry about that," Stiles interrupted her ramblings, "as long as the process works, they will appear here, right where their marker is. I don't know what will happen to the bodies they used to inhabit, my guess is those will either stay dead or disappear. One of the enchantments we need to do after the sun goes down will provide new bodies for their spirits to take over when they return to earth."

"What?" was all Derek could manage to say in response.

"It's like a more intense version of what the Darach did to reconstruct her body. I have no idea what it will feel like for anyone who comes back to life, but on the outside they should look the same, more-or-less." There was quite a long pause after that.

"Well, ok then," Lydia said to break the silence that followed that statement. "We'll worry about that part later."

"Good idea," the Stiles-mist was obviously pleased at the change, "It's starting to get late and we need to begin these rituals if we are going to do it before sunrise. Which, oh yeah, we need to finish before sunrise…I may have forgotten to mention that part earlier."

"Stiles!" Lydia exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Sorry," he said hastily, "it's not like I have any of this written down. I'm working entirely from memory here, and I didn't even know most of this stuff could be done until I started talking to Grandpa Deaton."

"Fine," she relented with a huff, "what's next?"

Derek watched in fascination as the Stiles-mist spent the next three hours teaching Lydia the proper spells and incantations necessary to make everything work. By this time the sun had completely disappeared, the only light in the clearing coming from a small fire Derek had started and the moon shining above them. They took a short break to allow Derek and Lydia time to eat (something they hadn't done since the morning), while Stiles entertained them with idle chatter and memories of things they had done when they were younger and all, well, alive. It wasn't as painful for Derek to talk about the past now that he had latched on to the idea that he was bringing the people they were talking about back to life.

Finally, the time came. Lydia, with Stiles' guidance, had finished the enchantments on the markers, made the final preparations to the runes that would send Derek to the Underworld, and added a few extra elements to the barrier surrounding the clearing. It was time for Derek to meet his Maker, or Stiles. Preferably the latter. He lay down in the center of the circle Lydia had prepared, gazing up at the moon directly above his head. _The full moon is about a week away,_ he thought aimlessly as Lydia trapped him inside a circle of mountain ash. He listened as Stiles and Lydia both began chanting in whatever language was required for the ritual to work. It was all Greek to him. _Actually, it might be Greek,_ he thought, _if the Lycaon myth is true._ He felt himself becoming lethargic as the chanting continued, slowly falling into a stupor, and then falling asleep altogether. Except, it wasn't like any sleep he had ever experienced before.

Derek wasn't sure if the ritual was working, but he knew it was doing something. He felt like he was floating, no falling, no flying. He was being stretched and pulled apart in all directions, but he was also being crushed and suffocated. He could feel his skin melting and burning and being plunged into ice water, but he also knew that he wasn't moving. It was surreal. It was painful. It was confusing. And, all at once, it was over.

Derek felt himself land on solid ground, tentatively flexing his muscles and breathing a sigh of relief. The sigh caught in his throat though as he took in his surroundings. The smell of sulfur, death, and decay was overpowering. He was in a cave by the looks of things, with a river of lava flowing in the distance. Craggy rocks continued as far as the eye could see in the dimly lit darkness. But the most terrifying of all was the beast standing right in front of him. It was easily eight feet tall, with powerful wings that jutted out from it's back and razor sharp talons for fingers. The thing looked to be entirely made of muscle, solid black skin pulled taught against. It looked like something out of a nightmare, or a very old Disney movie that Stiles had forced him to watch. Derek's instincts finally kicked in, and he turned to run. But before he could move a step the monstrosity spoke.

"Welcome to Hell, Sourwolf."


	3. Welcome to Hell

**If You're Going Through Hell**

Chapter 3: Welcome to Hell

"Welcome to Hell, Sourwolf." The Creature spoke with just a hint of humor. Its voice was unlike anything Derek had heard before, but the nickname was enough to stop him from immediately fleeing. _Only one person has ever called me that,_ he thought to himself, _but how…_

"Come on, we have to get out of here before anyone notices your arrival," the creature, _no, demon, definitely demon,_ said as it grabbed hold of his arm with all of the unnatural strength Derek had expected it to have and began dragging him along like a toy behind him towards one of the rock walls nearby.

"What are you?" he asked, finally getting his feet back under him so he could jog along instead.

"In a minute, Derek, ok? First, we get out of the open." With that, the demon picked up the pace, and Derek was forced to give all of his attention to not falling over the jagged terrain while trying to keep up. He faltered once more when he heard an unearthly screech from off in the distance, followed by what sounded like several children crying in pain, but the thing dragging him along paid it no attention and instead remained focused on its destination. The only problem, from Derek's point of view, was that their destination looked to be nothing more than the towering wall of the cave.

"Hey, wait a minute!" he cried out, uselessly tugging at the muscled hand still wrapped tightly around his arm. "Just stop for one second!"

The demon did, so quickly that Derek would have crashed into him if the creature hadn't forcibly stopped him as well. "Derek, we don't have time for this," it said, glancing around over his shoulder in the direction of the screeches and screams that were still building in intensity.

"Where are you taking me?" Derek asked, trying not to let the fear and dread taking over his mind creep into his voice.

"To a place where we can talk safely. Just trust me, for like five more seconds, and I'll explain everything." The demon didn't bother waiting for a response, turning instead to continue running straight towards the wall with Derek in tow once more. Derek didn't know what to think. A minute ago he'd felt like he was being torn apart, crushed, set aflame, and who knows what all else. Before that, he'd been peacefully listening to Lydia and Stiles chanting in some foreign language. Yesterday he'd been in the woods, trying to reach the Nemeton. It was all so confusing, he hadn't had time to process everything that had turned his life upside down a hundred times over. And now he was being dragged by a demon, in Hell, and if they didn't stop soon they were going to run right into a solid rock wall.

"Whoa, you need to stop before we hit…" it was too late, and so Derek did the only thing he could think of and shut his eyes, bracing for the painful impact he knew was coming. Except, the pain didn't come, the bone-crunching slam against rock didn't happen. He tentatively opened his eyes again, shocked to find that they were now in a dimly lit corridor, surrounded by stone walls and torches, like something out of a medieval castle. The demon never slowed or wavered as Derek turned to look back and saw what looked like an equally solid stone wall growing smaller in the direction they had just come from. "What just happened?" he called to the creature still dragging him along.

"Not yet, almost there, then we can talk," was the only reply it gave. Derek huffed slightly but remained silent, trying to make sense of what had just happened. After another minute or two of running down the corridor, they reached the end – a very solid looking, stone end. Derek was prepared this time and refused to close his eyes as the demon ran straight at the wall. His body reflexively tensed for the impact he still expected, but instead he let out a gasp as they ran directly through it, the wall dissolving around them, and then emerged in a room of some kind. It was pitch black and impossible to see, even with his werewolf night vision, but he could sense it wasn't huge. The air smelled of sweat and chemicals, vaguely familiar but just out of reach of his memory.

"Ok, we're here," he heard the demon say some distance to his left. He must have missed when it let go of his arm. _I need to calm down and focus, this is getting ridiculous, and dangerous._ "Give me one sec to get the lights and then we'll talk."

About three seconds later, the room was suddenly flooded with bright, fluorescent light and Derek was forced to close his eyes, blinded by the sudden intrusion. It took him a moment to recover, blinking away the sting as his sight adjusted. Being able to see just made things all the more confusing though. As he stared around the room, he realized he was in a classroom. _How did we end up in the high school? Am I dreaming?_

The demon snorted at him in laughter, "No you're not dreaming, Sourwolf." In the bright, artificial light the demon looked even more terrifying, if that was possible. It could obviously tear him to pieces without breaking a sweat if it wanted to. Derek tried not to look frightened, but he must have failed because the creature noticeably cringed at his expression.

"Sorry, I know I must look awful with the whole 'devil-chic' thing going on. Let me fix that." The demon stared at Derek like it was contemplating how best to murder him, and then slowly it began to shrink. Derek stared on in wonder as the wings on its back and horns on its head began to retract, disappearing altogether as the creature came to be slightly shorter than himself. The skin began to lighten and hair began to grow on its head as the muscles covering the torso and legs gave way to very human, very familiar clothing. Derek's jaw fell open as the transformation completed and, standing before him, was a grinning Stiles.

"Is this better?" he asked, voice having grown much softer and higher and _oh wow, it is him!_ "Hey, Silentwolf, you still with me over there?"

Derek finally came back to his senses and closed his open jaw, swallowing hard as he did so. "Stiles, is that really you?" He was afraid to ask, afraid of what the answer might be, but he had to know.

"Yeah, Derek, it's really, truly me," Stiles said with a smirk and a hunch of his shoulders that no one would ever have been able to imitate.

"Stiles!" Derek cried out, his own face breaking out into a grin as he pounced on the young man in front of him, managing to wrap him in a crushing hug as they toppled over onto the ground, landing with Derek's back against the floor and Stiles pulled as tightly as possible against his chest. He didn't care how awkward it would look, in this moment the only thing that mattered was touching him, smelling him, knowing without a doubt that the boy who had tried to drive him insane in life and nearly succeeded in doing so in death was there with him. He began to laugh and shake and _no, I'm not crying, I just have something in my eye,_ and soon Stiles was doing the same.

"I've missed you so much Derek," he said as they both began to calm down, breathing deeply and relaxing into one another. Stiles had landed with his head against Derek's chest, so he had to lift it slightly to look at Derek properly, mischievous gleam in his eye, "You know, this reminds me of that time we were in the Sheriff's station and the Kanima paralyzed us so that I ended up falling on top of you." They had always called it the Kanima instead of Jackson after he became a true werewolf to show they understood he wasn't at fault for what had happened. Jackson never said anything, but they could tell how much he appreciated the differentiation, and this proved to Derek, perhaps more than anything else, that this was truly the real Stiles in front of him. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but it's a lot nicer when I have control of my body and feeling in more than just my head and neck. You can be my sweet-and-sourwolf."

"Stiles!" Derek exclaimed, finally coming out of his reverie and catching on to what the young man was saying. He quickly pushed him off and the young man rolled over beside him, laughing at the situation. "You're ridiculous!"

"Maybe," he replied, giggling as he propped himself up on one elbow, "but it's true. And hey, it's not like you can make any empty threats about ripping my throat out with your teeth anymore. I'm already dead." He said it with nonchalance, whimsically, but that last statement brought Derek back to the crushing and terrible reality of the situation. Stiles noticed the change in his posture, his own smile fading as he pulled himself up the rest of the way into a sitting position, leaning against the cabinets behind him as Derek mirrored him and leaned against a workstation.

"Yeah, I know," Stiles continued, "Terrible comebacks. There isn't much to joke about down here, and I haven't had anyone other than George Deaton to really talk with in months. Sorry about that."

"You're sorry?" Derek was dumbfounded, "Stiles, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who should be sorry. I…I let you die. I was right there and I did nothing…"

Stiles was up instantly, far faster than he had been in life, quickly putting a finger up against Derek's lips, effectively silencing him. "Hey, shh, none of that," he said softly, "It's not your fault that I died. I knew you would think that way; it was one of my biggest regrets, that I didn't get to talk to you and Scott before I died and make sure you guys didn't go off blaming yourselves. That's actually how all of this started."

"How all what started?" Derek asked after a moment. Stiles relaxed a little, removing his finger from Derek's lips and brushing it lightly against his cheek before letting it fall to his side.

"Our quest," he said simply. "When I started talking with Grandpa Deaton, my goal had been to get a message to you guys who were still alive. I figured there had to be a way to contact the living somehow, it happens in movies all the time. I wanted to tell you not to blame yourself, there was nothing you could have done to prevent it or stop it. We were ambushed in the middle of the woods for goodness sake. As far as that goes, I'm surprised I lasted as long as I did. If you and Scott and the others hadn't done such a good job of protecting me I would have died years ago. None of this is your fault Derek, and I need you to understand and accept that."

"But Stiles…"

"No buts, Derek."

"Buttt," Derek emphasized it, speaking over the other's protestations, "we didn't protect you. I didn't protect you. I could have given you the bite, made you a werewolf back when I was an alpha. Or Scott could have. You would have healed from that arrow like it was nothing."

"And what good would that have done the pack?" Stiles seemed incredulous at the thought; Derek was equally confused by his response, "You don't seriously believe I never thought about becoming a werewolf? You guys are freaking awesome with your super strength and speed and all that. You can't honestly think I didn't get jealous of you and Scott or want what you guys had."

"Then why didn't you ask for it? I would have bit you. Scott would have bit you. You would have made a great werewolf."

Stiles took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to say what was coming next. Derek braced himself much like he had for the impact into solid wall he'd been expecting earlier. "That wasn't the role I was meant to play. I know I would have been a great werewolf, probably a lot better than any of the rest of you," he said it cheekily, but Derek could tell he also meant what he was saying, "But you guys needed me as a human. I could do things for you all as a human that I would not have been able to do as a wolf. I was your emissary, even though I don't think you or Scott actually realized that. That's why I turned down the bite."

Derek looked at the young man in front of him, realizing for the first time just how much strength must lie under that carefree, happy-go-lucky attitude. Then the last part of what Stiles said caught up to him. "What do you mean you turned down the bite?" His eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

"Oh, yeah, I guess I never told you about that," Stiles said sheepishly, taken aback. Derek growled slightly, his way of indicating Stiles should continue. "Ok, ok. It was back when Peter was still an alpha and Scott had no idea what he was doing. You had been captured by Kate and we were all trying to figure out where you were, which led to me tracking Scott's phone because we thought you might have it. Anyways, once we figured out where you were, Peter-Creeper was getting ready to go off to rescue you, maybe, but he stopped and said that he wanted to reward me for helping him. He offered to bite me and turn me into a werewolf, said it could have just as easily been me instead of Scott that first night in the woods. He made some good arguments, even if he was still really delusional and freaky. But I turned him down. I told him I didn't want it. And he told me I was lying. He was right, too, he just didn't know why, and I didn't explain it to him."

"So why didn't you let him bite you?" Derek asked, breaking the silence that had settled.

"Because I knew, even then, that that wasn't my path," Stiles said with a shrug, "You were a werewolf, Scott was a werewolf, Allison was a hunter, and life was about to get 10,000 times crazier, but as much as I wanted it, I knew I needed to stay human. I knew that you guys needed me to stay human. I envied you guys. I wanted so much to be like you, to really be a part of the pack. And I admit that I got pretty jealous when practically everyone around me started turning into werewolves and banshees and kitsunes and who knows what all else…"

"But you never gave in and took the bite," Derek finished, looking at the boy with wonder.

"Obviously," he said, smirking.

"Were you ever tempted to?" Derek asked, "Like, really tempted, more than just an 'I would like that' kind of thing?" He grimaced at the stupidity of his words, but he had to know.

Stiles contemplated the question for a moment before answering. "Hmm, once," he said, "when the Nogitsune was tricking us into thinking I was developing dementia like my mom. It was the only time Scott specifically offered to bite me. I was getting ready to have a brain scan done, and he told me that if I was sick, he would do something to cure me. I didn't really say anything, but I think we both knew that I would accept it if it came down to it. We figured out it was a trick and things went crazy with trying to get rid of the Nogitsune and it never really came back up after that. Point is, it was my choice to remain human, and I knew what I was doing when I made that choice over and over again for years. It's not your fault that I died."

Derek's face must have betrayed the skepticism still in his mind, because Stiles quickly continued. "Look at me, Derek. I know you can't hear my heartbeat any more, so you're going to have to do this the human way and know I'm telling the truth by my body language. It…is…not…your…fault. It's not your fault, or Scott's, or Lydia's, or mine as far as that goes. The only person to blame for me dying is some idiot in the woods with a bow and arrow who believed the lies and hate that Gerard and Monroe spread about the Supernatural world. They are to blame, no one else."

Derek acquiesced, perhaps not entirely convinced but also not quite as guilt ridden. He gave the smallest hint of a smile, "Well, at least we're bringing you back to life, so I guess in the end it won't matter."

"Yeah…exactly," Stiles said, grinning in return, though the grin didn't completely reach his eyes. Derek was too distracted looking back around the room again to pay it too much attention.

"So, um, you never answered my question before. Where exactly are we?" Derek turned back to face Stiles once more.

"We're in Hell!" he said gleefully, "Or rather, it's more like we're in Limbo. I don't fully understand it myself, but from what I can gather we're in the first stage of the afterlife. Everyone comes here when they die, or at least a version of here – there's one for each Nemeton up on earth. Sometimes people spend a long time here, years, decades, centuries. Others are here only briefly. Eventually, they move on. But no one I've talked to here knows what they move on to. Some say everyone eventually goes to Heaven. Others say they go to Heaven or Hell based on 'reasons.' And others think they just cease to exist, are at peace. Or get reincarnated. Basically no one knows what happens when you leave here, just that it happens eventually."

"Ok," Derek said slowly, dragging it out while he tried to take it all in. "Why, then, are we in a high school chemistry classroom?"

Stiles had a smug expression on his face as he answered. "We're in Mr. Harris' classroom, which was basically hell on earth anyway, so I think it makes perfect sense that it would be down here." He tried to say it with a straight face, but lost it about half way through. "Ok, ok, so, in all seriousness, Hell, or Limbo I guess, is a big place. Like, really big. I've only barely made a dent in it and I've been exploring for three or four months. The only thing I can really tell you is that it is full of surprises and mysteries. Some spots are actually really nice and pleasant. Others are Hell," he turned his gaze over the classroom for a minute before returning his attention to Derek, "and different places can look different to different people. What you see may not be what I see or what someone else sees. It gets confusing. Definitely no splitting up while you are here, because we'll never find each other again except maybe by accident."

"Alright then," Derek replied, agreeing with Stiles' final statement though not knowing what to do with the rest of his speech. _All I know for sure is that I am never letting you out of my sight again._ "So, what's the plan, Stiles?"

"I'm glad you asked," Stiles said, a devilish glint to his tone, "we need to find the others. They are, I assume, scattered around Limbo. When someone dies, their spirit arrives down here at the Great Gates. Sometimes one of the demons drags them off. Others are left alone to wander and do what they want. And there doesn't seem to be any pattern to who the demons take or where they take them to, at least not that I can tell."

"Speaking of demons," Derek interrupted, "are you ever going to explain that part? You were a giant monster when I got here. And what gates are you talking about, because there weren't any gates that I could see before you dragged me through a solid stone wall. And how did that work anyway? We shouldn't be able to walk through walls, should we?"

Stiles held up a hand to silence him. "You didn't die, Lydia and I brought you here. Therefore, you didn't enter through the Spirit Gates, you arrived at the rune circle I drew. We're pretty far from the Gates because I didn't want anyone to see how you got here. It would be really bad if people down here started finding out that someone alive was here with us. Trust me on that." Stiles had a rare look of determination on his face, forcing Derek to suppress the next round of questions forming in his head.

"As for the walls, we didn't actually walk through them. Part of the, 'charm,' of this place is that not everything is as it seems. There are lots of hidden passages, paths that lead to basically nowhere, tons of ways to get lost or confused, and anything else you can think of. I found this one by accident two months ago, and so far no one else has come through here since, so I've turned it into my hideout. I couldn't get my runes to work properly in the classroom though, so I had to go out to the cave to bring you here." Stiles paused for a moment, as though thinking about what to say next.

"Now, as I said yesterday when I was talking with you and Lydia, I stole the body of a demon. It's actually the demon that was guarding me. Wait," Stiles continued talking over Derek's attempt at interrupting him, "like I was saying earlier, some people get dragged off by the demons when they arrive here while others roam free. I was one that got dragged off, to an empty cave. I spent my first month in _Hell,"_ He gave the word all the disdain he could muster, "with nothing but that monster looming over me for company. It about drove me insane, not having anyone to talk to and not knowing what was going on. But I eventually got it to start talking with me, telling me about this place and about itself. I learned enough from it to figure out how to overpower it, which I then did."

"You…how…what?" Derek was at a loss for words.

"Aw, my splutterwolf is back," Stiles laughed, "so, the demons are powerful creatures, probably worse than just about anything we faced in life. But they are susceptible to some of the Druidic practices. It took me the better part of two weeks, but I slowly weakened it with spells and things that Deaton, our Deaton not Grandpa Deaton since I hadn't met him yet, had taught me. I had to go slow so it wouldn't realize what I was doing, but once I got it cornered, I was able to bind myself to it and take over its body."

"Does that mean it's still inside you?" Derek asked, beginning to worry.

"Possibly. The demons are physically strong, but there isn't much going on upstairs. I was able to subdue its consciousness pretty quickly and it hasn't reappeared since. Now it's more like I'm one of you guys, a shapeshifter. I have to really concentrate, but I can switch back and forth from my body to the demon's body. I'm not the biggest fan of being a demon, but it does make it easy to blend in around here."

"Now, as for the plan, it's pretty simple. We just have to search Limbo until we find our friends, then we send them back." Stiles said it with a very matter-of-fact tone, but Derek snorted derisively.

"Is that all we have to do? Search all of Limbo for our friends? Didn't you say you've been exploring for months and have barely made a dent in it?"

"Well, yeah. But I also had to learn a lot about this place. It'll go quicker now that I have a better understanding of it, and that you're here," Stiles said, batting his eyelashes at Derek convincingly.

"You're right about the second part at least," Derek said, an idea coming to him, "I can find them all really quickly." He took a deep breath, preparing to howl in order to signal the other wolves. Stiles watched him, first in confusion, then in horror, before jumping inhumanly fast back on top of Derek, hand clamped firmly around his mouth.

"Are you insane?" he asked, incredulously, "you can't just howl your location down here. Do you know how many supernatural creatures are here? Or how many of our previous enemies are here? And don't forget the demons. It took me weeks to subdue one. We would be no match for a whole horde of them. Telling all of them you're here would be tantamount to suicide!"

Derek looked up at Stiles, who now had him pinned down on the floor once more, with exasperation, eventually biting the hand still covering his mouth lightly in order to get him to let up. The hand was removed, but Stiles remained firmly positioned on top of him as though waiting for him to try again. "Ok, I get the point, howling is a bad idea. So, what do you propose we do instead?"

Stiles relented, standing up and offering a hand to Derek to help him up as well. "We need to find Scott first. He's the alpha, so his connection to the others will be stronger. If we can get him, he should be able to lead us to the rest of the pack."

"Do you have any idea where Scott might be down here?" Derek asked, tentatively.

Stiles didn't answer right away, choosing instead to stare off in deep concentration. Derek could almost hear the wheels spinning in his head, though he had no idea what the younger man was thinking. "I have one. But I'm almost afraid to ask."

"What do you mean?"

Stiles sighed, turning to look Derek in the eyes with a troubled expression on his face. "How did Scott die?"

Derek's insides turned to stone. It hadn't crossed his mind that Stiles wouldn't know, _of course he wouldn't know, he was already dead, that was the problem,_ and Derek really didn't want to be the one to tell him what had happened. Stiles had always been too clever and insightful for his own good though. Either he'd already suspected, or Derek's reaction told him what he needed to know.

"Scott killed himself, didn't he?" Stiles asked, radiating pain and sorrow with every word. Derek could only nod slowly in response. "Because of me?" Stiles continued in the quietest tone Derek had ever heard him use.

"I…I don't know," Derek replied, hastily continuing on at the look Stiles gave him, "he…he didn't really talk much after you died. None of us did. I don't think we ever let you know how important you were to us. I'm sorry about that, by the way," Stiles waved him off, urging him to continue the story, "but for Scott it was more than that. You were everything to him – friend, brother, counselor, emissary. Losing you, on top of everyone else we lost, was just too much. Especially when we couldn't bury you," Stiles looked confused, so Derek pressed on, tears beginning to flow unchecked and voice cracking slightly, "the…hunters kept attacking, and we were forced to run and hide. Lydia and I had to practically drag Scott away, he kept saying we couldn't leave you behind, we needed to take you with us. But we couldn't…we just couldn't, not with arrows and bullets flying everywhere. We came back the next day to get your body and bury it, but the hunters had taken it instead. That really broke what was left of Scott. We heard on the radio that night the official announcement of your death, and that they were going to have a 'memorial service' for everyone to pay their disrespects to you in town. Scott cried, for hours, after that. Well, we all did really. But not like him."

Derek went quiet for a moment, the memories still fresh and painful even amidst the irony that he was talking to the dead boy in question while in Limbo. "Scott didn't speak to Lydia or me anymore after that. He stopped eating. He stopped sleeping. And then…on the day of the memorial service in town…Scott disappeared while Lydia and I were asleep. I…I don't know what happened for sure. I felt him die, I felt my bond with him go cold. I knew he was gone. But I didn't know…the radio program that night announced that Scott had…had…"

"You don't have to say any more, Derek," Stiles placed a hand gently on his shoulder, and it broke the rest of his resolve. He dissolved into sobs and Stiles slowly wrapped him in a tight embrace, his own tears mingling with the wolves as they flowed from his eyes. The two remained in place, silent but for the sounds of their grief being poured out, for several minutes. Stiles eventually let go, grabbing a box of tissues from Limbo Harris' desk and handing them to Derek after taking a few for himself to use.

"Scott was always strong," Stiles said eventually, once they were both put back together, "but his strength always came from his friends, his family. When my mom died, I think it hit him harder than it did me. I remember for awhile he would come over to my place to try to cheer me up and he'd end up being the one bawling his eyes out. I think that's why he and I have always been so close. We completed one another so to speak, in a platonic way of course." Stiles glanced at Derek then, but his expression was unreadable.

"I've always known that it would hit him hard if I died. To be honest, there were times when that was the only thing that stopped me from ending it all. Scott, and my dad. I couldn't leave my dad all alone. And I couldn't hurt my brother like that. It's my biggest regret, the thing driving me right now to do this insanely impossible, ridiculous idea of sending everyone back and undoing that pain." Derek could hear the steely resolve in his voice, could see the sharp set of his shoulders, and he was struck by how Stiles could embody both strength and brokenness so completely at the same time. It was beautiful and terrifying to behold.

"This is going to sound really bad," Stiles continued after a moment, "but this actually helps us. If there can be a silver lining in all of this I suppose," Stiles deflated, chuckling sadly and Derek fell apart just slightly as well.

"What's that?" he asked, timidly. Stiles gave him another of his unreadable expressions, all pain and fear and determination and something else.

"All of the…suicides go to the same place." The expression vanished, instead replaced by a far away look that spooked Derek more than anything else had so far. "I was afraid that might be where he was, but I was also afraid to go and look on my own. It's not far from here."

"Well," Derek said, after a tense minute or two passed by in silence. Stiles was snapped away from whatever he had gotten lost thinking about. "Let's go find him and fix this."

Stiles broke into a much more Stiles-like grin before slowly shifting back into his demon form. Knowing it was still Stiles made the beast a little less formidable looking, but Derek still took a tentative step backwards when the transformation was complete and the demon, _no, it's still Stiles,_ turned to make eye contact again. "Let's get going!" the demon said, voice back to being deep and grating and completely un-Stiles. "Stay close to me. If we pass anyone, our official cover is I'm taking you to a chamber for punishment. Don't say anything, and if we're lucky, no one will notice that you aren't actually dead. Thank you for flying Air-Stiles, we hope you enjoy your stay in Limbo!" The demon cackled with glee in a way that only Stiles can, then grabbed Derek's arm and took off through the wall and down the stone corridor once more. _What have I agreed to?_

 _A/N - Reviews are always appreciated! Thanks for reading!_


	4. The Search Begins

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi all! I hope you enjoy the upcoming twists and turns. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 4: The Search Begins

Demon-Stiles let go of Derek's arm once they had passed through the seemingly solid stone wall separating the corridor from the cave where he had arrived earlier. Now that he was no longer preoccupied by trying to figure out what the Demon was and what was going on, Derek was hit full force by the smells surrounding him. It was overwhelming. There were the physical smells – sulfur, death, decay, mold, sweat, smoke, and so on – which were bad enough. But the emotions in the air made it that much worse – pain, fear, despair, anxiety. He could barely breathe.

"Derek, what's wrong?" Demon-Stiles asked, glancing back at him and noticing what was happening.

"It's…too much…the smell," Derek choked out, beginning to gasp for air.

"Hey, hey, hey…look at me." Demon-Stiles began, then faltered at the look on Derek's face, "yeah, I guess that isn't going to help much at the moment. Hold on," Derek watched, literally breathless, as the demon took a quick look around them to make sure they were alone and then transformed back into Stiles, much faster this time than he had back in Limbo Harris' classroom. "There, now look at me," Stiles said, placing a firm hand on each of Derek's shoulders and blocking out the rest of their surroundings. "just focus on me, on the sound of my voice and my scent. I know it's been awhile, but there has to still be traces of the Pack on me, find them, use them to drown out everything else."

Derek tried, he really tried, but it just wasn't enough. He couldn't focus with the sounds and smells and everything else in the cave. The color began to drain from his face. Stiles watched his friend in agony, before finally, on impulse, grabbing Derek's head and drawing him, nose first, into the crook of his neck. Derek took a few tentative breaths before finding the scents of Stiles, Scott, Lydia, and himself there. He could also smell Stiles' emotions – worry, a hint of fear, but also affection, determination, and just a hint of something else, something pleasant. It was comforting, it was Pack. It was a smell that he had spent months of his life longing to be around again, and after a few moments Derek calmed and his breathing levelled out. Eventually, he reluctantly pulled away, remaining just inside of Stiles' personal space but refusing to look him in the eye out of embarrassment.

"Sorry about that," Derek finally said, breaking the silence between them.

"Derek, look at me," Stiles said softly, and Derek found himself instantly obeying once more. He could see the concern etched in the young man's features and the truth of what he was saying in his eyes. "Don't be sorry. It's ok. This place has been an overwhelming nightmare for me, and I actually got here the normal way. I can't even imagine what it must be like for you to still be alive and brought here, with your supernatural senses. You're allowed to freak out about it. I totally understand and won't judge you for it."

"Um, thanks," was all Derek could say in return, but he visibly relaxed and Stiles seemed satisfied that he'd accomplished whatever his goal was.

"So, new plan," Stiles said, a contemplative look overtaking the concerned one from earlier, "I'll stay like this unless we get in trouble and need the demon's strength or powers. That's probably for the best anyway, since there's no way I'll be able to convince Scott or the others that I'm on their side looking like the Chernabog. We will have to be a lot more careful walking around Limbo though, because the other demons will be much more suspicious of us and, well, we'll be much more recognizable to any of our old enemies. But that's ok," Stiles added hastily, seeing the look on Derek's face, "we've beaten them before, and we can do it again if we have too."

"Just how many of our enemies are you expecting to meet down here?" Derek asked.

"Well…Monroe is still alive, right? So she's not here. Oh, and Mr. Douglass was taken by the Wild Hunt, so we won't be seeing him either," Stiles said, pausing as he tried to think of others.

"So, what you're saying is, we could end up seeing them all again?" Derek wasn't sure if he should laugh at the absurdity or just collapse then and there.

"I suppose so," Stiles said, nervously rubbing his neck, "but, once we get some reinforcements, it won't be that big of a deal. Like I said, we've beaten them all before."

"And lost to them before. Some of our friends are here because of that, remember."

"Come on Sourwolf, we're better than that now. Or, we will be once we have everyone else. And besides, some of them are our friends now," Stiles exuded confidence, but Derek could tell he was holding something back. He eventually decided to let it go, for now.

"Then I guess we should get back to searching, shouldn't we?" Derek replied. Stiles grinned at him with so much enthusiasm Derek was forced to join him.

"Are you ready to get going again?" Stiles asked after a moment.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm getting used to the smells down here, and it's not as bad when you're a human and I can smell our Pack on you. How does that work, anyway, since you aren't, well, you anymore?"

"I have no idea. To be honest, I didn't even know if I still had a scent or not," he shrugged, grimacing slightly.

"Stiles! You're impossible," Derek said, facepalming at his young companion.

"Yep," was the simple reply, "but that's why you all love me! Now, let's get going, we have an alpha wolf to rescue." Stiles began walking in the direction he had originally started in, remaining much closer to the cave wall this time. Derek just shook his head and followed, reluctant to let his friend out of his sight. They remained silent for about two minutes before it became too much for Stiles. "So, what's been happening up there since I've been gone?"

Stiles took a sideways glance at Derek, who had caught up to him and was now walking alongside him. Derek seemed to have been lost in thought and startled at the abrupt question, but he relaxed and answered quietly. "Not much, to be honest. After you and Scott…the hunters mostly left us alone. Lydia and I found a spot in the preserve that was secluded and basically turned it into our home. We kept debating what we should do next, but you summoned her to the Nemeton before we'd decided on anything."

They continued walking in silence for awhile after that, both lost in thought once more. It was Stiles who once again broke the silence, "Derek, I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"For what you've been through," Stiles replied. "No wait, here me out," he continued before Derek could answer, "I'm not blaming myself or anything, although I know I did make life kind of rough on you when we first met." Stiles grinned at him while Derek scowled, "I'm mostly just sorry you've been forced to experience so much pain. You deserved better than that. And I want you to…LOOK OUT!"

Stiles leapt forward, shoving Derek behind him against the wall of the cave before he had a chance to even register what was going on. Derek righted himself in time to hear the snarls from another creature that had apparently managed to sneak up on them while they were talking. Stiles blocked him from view, positioning himself between his friend and the new arrival. Now that he was paying attention again, he could smell the other creature, a combination of the death and decay ever-prevalent in the cave and pure rage.

"I remember you," the creature snarled at Stiles, swiping his glowing blue claws at him, "you're part of Scott McCall's pack." He said it with utter contempt, and Derek could sense the anger intensifying in him.

"Stiles, stay back," Derek said, attempting to pull the other back or place himself in the middle instead. But this Stiles was surprisingly unyielding compared to the one he had known in life.

"Why hello, what have we here?" the creature asked, narrowing his eyes at Derek ominously as his fangs lengthened and his posture shifted, readying himself to attack.

Stiles, on the other hand, relaxed, lowering his arms to gesture between them as he spoke. "Oh yeah, you two haven't met," he said jovially, "Belasko, meet Derek, he's part of our pack too. Derek, meet Belasko, he tried to steal Scott's True Alpha powers with his talons. It didn't work out so well."

Belasko snarled at Stiles' comment, taking another swipe at the young man with said talons, but Stiles dodged it easily enough. "Where is your alpha now anyway?"

"Why? Are you that interested in failing again?" Stiles quipped, acting bored with the conversation. Derek watched the two closely, increasingly on edge as he studied their interactions. The new one, Belasko, was obviously a threat, Derek would have known even without Stiles' introductions. Stiles, on the other hand, was far too composed and vulnerable, leaving himself open to the attack that was surely coming at any moment, especially if he kept taunting the enraged beast in front of them.

"No!" Belasko cried, "I want to tear that murdering whelp to pieces for what he did to me!"

"What are you talking about?" Stiles looked genuinely confused at that, which did nothing to alleviate Derek's nerves, "Scott didn't kill you, or anyone else. I distinctly remember him letting you go." Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, obviously offended by the attack on his best friend's character.

"It…didn't…matter," Belasko was losing what little resolve he had, words coming out between growls. "The Doctors killed me anyway for failing them. It's Scott's fault I'm dead!"

 _This isn't going to end well,_ Derek thought to himself, slowly bringing out his fangs and claws while trying not to draw attention to himself.

"I'm going to get revenge for what he did," Belasko was practically screaming at this point, "and I'm going to start by destroying you two!"

Derek saw the almost imperceptible shift in Belasko's posture. "Stiles, run!" he cried, leaping forward as the creature took another, far more dangerous, swipe at his friend. Derek managed to get ahold of Belasko's wrist to stop him in time, but it left him vulnerable from the other side. Derek felt a searing pain in his side as his opponent stabbed him with the claws on his other hand. The attack was not serious, but it weakened him enough that Belasko was able to drag him, claws still embedded in his side, and throw him to the ground a few feet away.

"NO!" Derek snarled, knowing that Stiles would be the angry creatures next target. He jumped to his feet but was quickly stopped in his tracks. Stiles had taken the moment the others fought to shift into his demon form once more, and had grabbed Belasko by the neck, raising him into the air gasping for breath.

"What are you?" he choked out, swiping uselessly at the hand clutched around his throat and the torso within striking distance.

"I…am your new worst nightmare," Demon-Stiles said angrily. "And I don't like it when my friends get hurt." He drew Belasko in slightly, dangling him at eye-level as he spoke. Suddenly, the demon's wings unfurled and, with one mighty rush of wind, he took off, rising to the height of the cave ceiling in moments. Belasko swayed at the demon's side like a ragdoll, and Derek could only look on in wonder.

"Don't ever come looking for us again. I won't be as gentle next time," Derek heard Demon-Stiles say. Then, without warning, the demon hurled Belasko at the ground several hundred feet away. Derek heard the bone-crushing impact from a distance before the demon dropped back to the ground in front of him, shifting back to Stiles' form once more.

"Well, that was fun," he said, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he came closer. "Are you ok?" Stiles asked, tugging at Derek's shirt slightly to get a better look at the wound.

The older man was snapped back to reality at the touch, wincing slightly. "It'll heal," he said automatically. Then he did a double take, raising his shirt to get a better look himself, "Wait, will it heal? Do I still have my abilities if I'm in Limbo?" Derek watched Stiles closely, trying to mask the desperation in his voice.

"You should," Stiles said, wiping some of the blood from the wound. "You do," he said a moment later, "You've already started healing."

Derek let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, then lowered his shirt back down. "Who was that?"

Stiles looked back in the direction he had thrown Belasko, though the shapeshifter was too far away to actually be visible. "Let's get moving again, in case anyone, or anything, else heard that. I'll tell you on the way." Derek nodded his head and they took off once more, continuing to follow the cave wall. They walked in silence for a moment while Stiles apparently gathered his thoughts. "That was Belasko," he said, idly playing with the hem of his own shirt as they walked, "He is, or was, a chimera, one of the Dread Doctors' experiments. His claws allow him to absorb the power of other supernatural creatures. He actually almost killed Parrish with them, and he tried to kill Scott. Scott and the Pack defeated him though, and Scott let him leave. I always kind of wondered why we never saw him again, but it makes sense that the Dread Doctors killed him for being a 'failure.'"

"He seemed powerful," Derek said, watching Stiles more than he was the ground he was walking on.

"I think he was," Stiles replied, "all of the chimeras were powerful creatures. We struggled quite a lot against them when we first started fighting them. Belasko almost took Scott down before the Pack got there and he got the upper hand."

"But," Derek continued, "you just took him out like it was nothing."

"Yeah, that was pretty awesome, don't you think?" Stiles grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

"Sure," Derek said, frowning slightly as he turned away.

"Hey, why is the Sourwolf making a comeback?" Stiles asked, pleased expression turning to concern again as he laid a hand gently on Derek's shoulder. They stopped once more, turning to face one another.

"I just…when you asked me to come here with you, I thought it was because you needed me…like before," Derek said, refusing to make eye contact and instead glaring daggers at a pebble on the ground.

"Derek," Stiles said gently, bringing his free hand up to rest against Derek's cheek, turning him to look him in the eyes, "I do need you." Derek scoffed, trying to turn away, but Stiles held firm. "Ok, so I can take care of myself now, I can protect you now the way you always protected me. I didn't bring you here for that."

"Then why?" Derek asked, expression stony and unreadable.

"There are two reasons actually," Stiles sighed, wearing his emotions on his sleeve. "First, I need you here to make it possible to send our friends back when we find them. The rituals Lydia and I performed split your spirit from your body. But, while you are alive, those two things cannot be truly separate from one another. Your spirit, down here, is still linked to your physical body on earth. They form a bridge, connecting this world and that one. That bridge is needed for our friends to cross back to the land of the living. So, while you are here, please let me protect you." Stiles was practically begging at this point, and Derek couldn't stand it.

"What's the other reason?" he asked, trying to get Stiles back on track.

"Oh," Stiles replied, blushing slightly, "that one's much more selfish." Derek arched his eyebrows while he waited for him to continue. Stiles sighed again, "I, uh, wanted to see you again. I know it sounds stupid, but I missed you and I wasn't willing to wait until you died to see you again." By this time Stiles' face was beet red. Derek chuckled slightly at the look, but was more struck by what the young man had revealed.

"Stiles, I didn't know you cared that much about me," Derek said, incredulously.

"What!" Stiles looked genuinely offended, "of course I care about you, Stupidwolf. How can you not have realized that?"

"I…don't know." Derek said sheepishly. "I guess I never figured you would. I know I'm not the easiest guy to get along with."

"All part of your werewolf charm," Stiles said, waving the suggestion off. "I, personally, see it as just a challenge to overcome, not a reason to not like you."

"I don't know what to say," Derek said, blushing slightly himself. Stiles began to close what little space there was between them. Derek closed his eyes, a million thoughts racing through his head, wondering what was about to happen.

"Derek, I…" Stiles began, but a loud screech from behind them interrupted him. Derek's eyes were wide open once more, but Stiles was now looking over his shoulder to see what was going on. "I think we need to keep moving," he said, dragging Derek along with the hand still clamped on his shoulder instead of waiting for a reply. "And we need to get that blood off of you."

They had apparently been following some sort of path without Derek realizing it, because all at once Stiles turned down what looked like a fork in the road and began heading in another direction. Derek remained silent for a while, until he felt the heat in the air intensifying. They were entering a dense fog, and his ears began to ring from the sound of something hissing or sizzling. "What are we doing?" he called out to Stiles in front of him, the young man now rather obscured by the fog.

"There's a stream of water here that empties into the lava river in the middle of the cave. We can use the water to clean you up, but watch your step, you don't want to get anywhere near the lava if you can avoid it." Stiles called back to him. "Take off your shirt," Stiles commanded, once they had reached the stream. The fog was now so thick that Derek could barely tell the other was still there with him, and the sound of the water instantly turning to steam when it hit the lava had grown tenfold. Derek did as he was told, handing the shirt over to Stiles as he stooped down to cleanse his skin of the remaining blood. The water was almost scalding hot to the touch, but it did its job. Stiles handed him the now soaking wet, but blood free, shirt when he stood back up. "Come on, let's get out of here and go find Scott," Stiles half-yelled, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

By the time they escaped the mist, both men were soaked from sweat and the moisture in the air. Stiles had yet to release Derek's hand, which was slightly disconcerting to the older man. He would, of course, blame the redness of his face on the intense heat they had just left rather than his thoughts or feelings if anybody called him out on it. Eventually, Stiles let go as they came to another fork in the road, this time with three different paths they could follow. "Are you sure you know where we're going," Derek asked, pausing to consider for the first time how reliable the young man's knowledge of Limbo-world might actually be.

"Yeah," Stiles replied, "just debating on which route is least likely to bring us more unfriendly encounters." Derek relented, deciding that made a great deal of sense after the Belasko incident. _And I really don't want to see what a non-Stiles demon is like._ "Let's go this way," Stiles said after another moment, "it'll keep us close to the lava river. The heat will be horrible, but since most of the people here try to avoid being thrown into the lake of fire, we should be alone." Derek thought about asking if Stiles was being serious or not, then decided he didn't really want to know and followed his companion wordlessly.

Stiles had been right about the rest though. The heat from the lava burned at Derek's skin as they travelled the road a dozen yards from the river's edge. The hot air made breathing a little more challenging, and he was completely soaked in sweat almost immediately. _We didn't need the detour to the stream,_ he thought ruefully, _this would have washed away the blood just as well._ They didn't meet anyone else on the road though, so that was a plus. They had walked what must have been two or three miles along the side of the lava river before Stiles veered away down another path leading back towards the cave walls. "Where are we going now?" Derek asked. Now that the heat was dissipating, his head cleared and he realized that Stiles had been uncharacteristically silent for some time.

"I want to check in with Lydia," he replied, "make sure that what Belasko did didn't do any harm to your body in the real world."

"Oh," Derek replied, wondering what might have happened.

"Here, this is a good spot," Stiles said after a few more minutes of walking. They had come to a steep hill that had been split down the middle, creating a narrow ravine. Stiles entered the ravine, with Derek following wearily. The rock walls deadened the sounds from outside while the narrow opening at the top let in just enough light for them to see what they were doing. Stiles paused somewhere towards the center of the split hill, stooping down to draw in the dirt on the ground. From his vantage point, Derek couldn't see what Stiles was drawing, but he assumed it must be some sort of Druid runes. It took the young man about 15 minutes to complete the project, by which point he and Derek were completely encircled by his drawings. Stiles began to chant in the same strange language he and Lydia had used to bring Derek here, and Derek watched in wonder as their surroundings began to change.

There was no pain or twisting or anything else like there had been when he had been brought to Limbo. Instead, he lost feeling in his body altogether as the air around him turned into haze. The rock walls surrounding them dissolved away into the mist, slowly being replaced instead by indistinct shapes much further away. As the haze let up, Derek could eventually make out trees, and when he looked down he gasped as he realized he was standing on the Nemeton stump. The gasp startled someone sitting close by, who quickly stood and turned towards them. Everything was still hazy, but Derek could basically tell that this was Lydia, hurrying over to them.

"Hi, Lyds," Stiles said amiably as she approached.

"Stiles, what is going on!" Lydia shouted, layering just enough banshee scream into it to make Derek's ears hurt.

"Ow, Lydia, not so loud," Derek said instinctively, trying to cover his ears before remembering that he couldn't feel his body.

"Derek?" she asked tentatively, much quieter this time, "are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. What's going on?" Derek replied.

"What's going on?!" Lydia's voice began to rise again. "What's going on?! One minute, I'm sitting here listening to the radio and wondering if what we did was successful or not, since Stiles disappeared and I didn't hear anything from you guys. And then the next minute, your body has giant gashes in your side and there's blood everywhere. I didn't know what to do, or what was going on, and I tried to stop the bleeding as much as I could. And then, the wounds healed over and stopped bleeding and I was left standing here more confused than ever. Sooo, let me ask you. What is going on?!"

"I'm so sorry, Lydia," Stiles said quickly, "I meant to contact you sooner than this, but I was waiting until I had more to tell you….I should have come here sooner," he added the last part quickly, noticing the shift in her posture. "We, uh, ran into an old friend."

"What old friend?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"Do you remember Belasko?" Stiles asked. Lydia gasped, hand covering her mouth, which was all the answer they needed. "Yeah, apparently he has a grudge against Scott for not rolling over and letting him suck the life out of him with those creepy talons of his. Which, he has them down here, and I don't know how that happened since the last I knew they were in a jar that Deucalion hid. Anyways, he attacked us, Derek got hurt, but he's all better now here. It sounds like what happens to one part, Derek's body or Derek's spirit, will happen to the other as well. That's good to know."

"Good to know?" Lydia replied, "you mean you didn't know what would happen?"

"Well," Stiles replied, "not entirely. I figured it would be something like this, but I didn't know for sure." She scoffed at him. "Hey, it's not my fault. As far as I know, we are the first people ever to succeed at doing this. No one knows what will happen for sure."

"That's not exactly helping your case," Derek chimed in.

"I know. But the good news is that you healed, both in the real world and Limbo. Has anything else happened Lydia?"

"No," she said, softening slightly, "it's been really quiet around here. I thought I heard someone approaching one time, but either I imagined it or our barrier sent them away."

"That's good," Stiles said, "hey listen, we're kind of not in the greatest place right now, so Derek and I need to get going again. But I promise I'll check in more often and let you know what's happening with us down here, ok?"

"Ok," Lydia said, expression unreadable.

"Take care of yourself, Lydia," Derek said as the haze began to return.

"And Derek's body," Stiles added cheerfully as she disappeared and was replaced by the solid rock walls of their ravine.

"That…was weird," Derek said, stretching his arms and legs as he regained feeling in his body.

"You're telling me," Stiles said, mirroring his movements, "try doing that for a whole week straight while waiting for your two friends to finally make their way to where you are."

Derek had no response to that, so he simply shrugged his shoulders and followed as they left the ravine and climbed the hill they had just sheltered in. "How much farther is it?" he asked as they neared the top.

"Not far," Stiles said, pausing at the peak. "Scott should be just over there," he added, pointing. Derek's jaw dropped once more.


	5. Lost and Found

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi all! I hope you enjoy this next installment. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 5: Lost and Found

"Not far," Stiles said, pausing at the peak. "Scott should be just over there," he added, pointing. Derek's jaw dropped once more.

They had reached the crest of the jagged hill. Derek began to realize just how enormous Limbo world must be. Their vantage point overlooked what could only be described as an abyss that stretched for miles in all directions. The lava river, now about half a mile to their left, cascaded over the edge of the cliff, becoming a lava waterfall that descended to the depths of what must be Hell itself by the looks of things. Looking down into the chasm, Derek could not begin to guess how deep it must be, the lava waterfall ending at little more than a pinprick at the bottom, an orange dot against the gray and black backdrop. Up top, where they currently were, the opening in the cave must have been at least several miles across, the other cliffside just barely visible from where Derek and Stiles stood.

There was also movement all around them, Derek noticed as he took a closer look. A demon or two would occasionally fly out of nowhere, circling the abyss before landing in another location or taking off down one of the six caverns that fed into it, like the one they had just come from. He could also make out a few people, by the looks of them, wandering along different narrow paths in the rock walls that descended below.

"Yeah, it's quite impressive," Stiles said, watching Derek taking in his surroundings, "and depressing, once you realize what it's for."

"What do you mean?" Derek asked, coming back to his senses and out of his stupor.

"Do you see those little things in the rock walls of the chasm, they look kind of like doors or gates?" Stiles pointed towards the opposite side of the cave. Derek hadn't noticed them at first glance, but now that he was focusing in on it, he could make out dozens of the things, and they indeed did look like little doors – some modern ones, like you would find in a home, others much more medieval or gothic looking.

"What are they?" Derek asked, scanning the rest of the walls of the abyss, noticing the doors continued down as far as his werewolf eyes could see. There were easily thousands of them just along the portions of rock he could make out.

"The demons call this the Suicide Pit," Stiles said, his voice hitching slightly at the words, "Every person who committed suicide in life is brought here. Or, I guess everyone who does it within our Nemeton's range of influence, since there are other Limbo worlds for the other Nemetons. There's…one door per person."

"Wha….oh," Derek replied, a knot forming in his chest that had nothing to do with the smells or the heat of the cave. He looked back around at the miles-wide cavern, unable to even begin to guess how many different doors, and consequently how many different people who had taken their own life those doors represented, there must be here. "How are we going to find Scott in all of this? It would take years to check each one of these."

Stiles grimaced slightly. "I don't intend to check them all individually."

Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, taking in his expression. It was one he had seen on the young man several times before, always just before Stiles said something that Derek didn't like. _I'm going to regret this,_ he thought to himself. "What are you planning on doing instead?"

Stiles chuckled nervously, solidifying the rock that plummeted into the pit of Derek's stomach. "Wellll," he said, rubbing at his arm absentmindedly, "you see, the demons are not very smart, we already talked about that, but I guess they are either smart enough to know what they are doing or they were at one time when they were getting things organized, or maybe there is some sort of Head Demon who runs this whole thing and he put it all together, or maybe she, you never know…"

"Stiles!" Derek interjected, stopping the rambling.

"Right, right, sorry!" he said hastily, "Anyways, the demons have some sort of room where they keep records of where all of the different…people…are kept. All we have to do is figure out where that room is, and then I can go in as a demon and look up where Scott is being kept."

"That's all we have to do?" Derek asked exasperated, "Stiles, that's a terrible plan."

"What? No, it isn't."

"What happens if we can't find this room? Or what happens if you can't convince the other demons that you are one of them? Or what if…"

"Derek, we're never going to get anywhere if we don't try," Stiles interjected, "there are lots of 'what ifs,' there were a lot of 'what ifs' when I contacted you and Lydia, and when we brought you here. But, like you said earlier, we have faced danger together before, and we have to try if it means saving our friends."

Derek still looked skeptical, but Stiles continued before he could voice anymore objections, "as for the things you brought up, I believe we can find this record room without too much trouble. It's like, police academy 101, if you want to find out where a bad guy's hangout is, all you have to do is go on a stakeout. We just need to stay up here on this hill for awhile and watch where the other demons go. If we find a door that several of them go in and out of, then we find their headquarters."

"That…actually makes sense," Derek said reluctantly, "but what about you trying to sneak in? What if the other demons see you?"

"Well, I'm not going to sneak in, I'm going to fly in," he said simply, raising Derek's blood pressure in the process. "What?" Stiles asked, seeing the expression on his friend's face, "Derek, you haven't interacted with these creatures the way I have. They are stupid. Like, ridiculously stupid, so stupid I don't know how they remember to breathe stupid. They aren't going to pay any attention to one more demon wandering in looking for something. Trust me on this, please."

Derek was by no means totally convinced, but he relented, for the time being. "Alright," he said with a sigh, cringing at how Stiles lit up with enthusiasm at the simple word, "but we still need to be as careful as possible. I don't want you to take any unnecessary risks."

"Don't worry, my sentimentalwolf. I'll be careful, I promise," he grinned up at the older man, a look that Derek had missed over the months of his absence more than most.

"Ok," he replied, after a moment, "what do we need to do first?"

Stiles answered by grabbing ahold of Derek's hand once more and dragging him off with far more strength than should be possible for his slight frame. "There's an alcove over here, just under the ridge we walked up. We can hide out in it while we watch the demons without being very noticeable." By the time he had finished speaking, they had reached the alcove in question. It was a small, simple outcropping in the rock wall directly below the hill they had been standing on, off of a narrow path Derek hadn't noticed at first that descended steeply down into the abyss below. It was a good hiding place, and so Derek wordlessly took up a defensive position inside it while Stiles remained far more relaxed and aloof than anyone had a right to be when surrounded by lava rivers and flying demons and pits that must lead to the belly of the underworld.

The two sat in relative silence for several hours. Now that they had settled into the pit itself, the place felt far more depressing than the cavern they had walked down to reach this point. It took Derek a few seconds to realize that it was because the emotions in the air had shifted, the whole abyss radiating fear, sadness, loneliness, and depression. It was intense. As they continued to sit, watching the demons occasionally pass by, Derek noticed that it must be having an affect on Stiles as well, because the human boy had never been so quiet or still in all the time Derek had known him, alive or dead.

"There," Stiles said, breaking the silence, and tension, that had built over the past six hours. He pointed at an innocuous door near the top of the cliff off to their right about a quarter of the way around the cavern. "I've seen seven demons enter that door and five leave. It's the only one that has had that much traffic."

"I agree," Derek said. In truth, he'd noticed that this must be the door they needed about two hours earlier, but had been reluctant to say anything in hopes of putting off the next part of the plan.

"Ok, you stay here." Stiles began as he got up and stretched his limbs slightly. "I'll go back to the ravine where we talked to Lydia and transform into the demon, that way I can make sure no one sees me or knows that you are still here. Then it should be easy to get in there and find out where Scott is. Once I know, I'll come back here and get you."

"I'm still not ok with this plan," Derek replied, "I don't like you going in there alone. It feels wrong."

"Of course it feels wrong, sillywolf; we're in Hell, basically, everything here is wrong," Stiles shook his head in exasperation before laying a hand gently on Derek's shoulder. "I'll be fine. The demons won't know I'm different, I guarantee it. Just, try and relax a bit. I'll be back soon." With that, Stiles took off back up the hill before Derek could respond.

If Derek thought being on stakeout with a silent Stiles was bad, waiting alone in the alcove for him to return was ten times worse. A few minutes after Stiles had left, a demon had flown directly over his hiding place, flapping around somewhat erratically. _That must be Stiles,_ Derek thought, unsure if he should be amused by the sight of a terrifying creature flailing about or worried that the others would notice and suspect something. Definitely the latter. He watched the demon fly over to the door he and Stiles guessed must be the entrance to their lair, and let out a small sigh as the creature went inside. Time seemed to drag on agonizingly slowly after that. Derek had no way of knowing what was happening inside. Each time a demon entered through that door he got that much more nervous, and each time one left he watched with trepidation trying to determine if it was Stiles or not.

Several more hours passed by. If Derek had been concerned earlier, he was an inch from panicking now. _I should have gone with him, this is far too dangerous for him to be on his own, even if he can transform into one of those demons. Maybe I should try to take over one as well, that way I can blend in and see what's happening and make sure Stiles is alright. What is taking so long? It can't be that challenging to find where one person is being kept. What if we were wrong, and that isn't the record room? What if the demons are smarter than Stiles thinks and they realized he isn't actually one of them? How will I even tell if something is wrong? I can't contact Lydia, I can't find Scott on my own, I have no idea where the others are. What am I supposed to do without Stiles?_

"Hey Wolfman, did you miss me?" Stiles said, climbing back into the alcove and stopping the runaway train of thought in Derek's mind.

"Stiles!" he exclaimed, jumping slightly at the sudden reappearance but visibly relaxing seeing him return unscathed.

"You're not going to get rid of me that easily," he replied tongue-in-cheek before settling down on the ground.

"Ha…ha," Derek said, expressionless, "did you find Scott?'

"I did," Stiles said, grinning slightly, "he's actually not that far away, assuming I interpreted their records correctly." Derek arched his eyebrows, his trademark way of saying continue. "Like I said, they're stupid creatures. It took me forever to figure out their filing system while trying not to look suspicious, or more like their lack of a filing system. Anyways, I'm about 80% sure I know where Scott is."

"Well, I guess that will have to do," Derek said, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. It felt good to banter with Stiles again, even if they were in the middle of Limbo and preparing to rescue Scott from the Suicide Pit while being surrounded by demons. And lava, can't forget the lava. "Lead the way, Stiles."

Stiles nearly jumped up to his feet, excitement growing now that they were closing in on completing step one of their rescue operation. Derek followed in a much more dignified manner, not quite as enthusiastic on the outside but probably more so than his young friend on the inside. "Watch your step," Stiles said as they returned to the narrow path that hugged the rock wall descending into the abyss, "one wrong step and it'll be the express trip to the lowest circle of Hell."

"Hey Stiles," Derek said, much quieter now that they were out in the open again, "is it possible for me to take over one of the demons the way you did? I could help out more if I had a little more power down here."

Stiles glanced back at him with a look Derek couldn't quite interpret, maybe a combination of pity and amusement, but something else also. "No," he said, turning back to watch where he placed his feet on the treacherous path, "you would need to be able to perform some of the Druid rituals. Even if I was able to teach them to you, there's no guarantee it would work. It took me weeks to subdue the demon who was guarding me, and we don't have that amount of time to work with now." Stiles paused as he pressed himself against a ledge and shuffled sideways along what remained of the path after a piece had, long ago, broken off. "I'm sorry Derek, I know you don't like taking the back seat in all this. I promise you are doing far more than you realize, and it will all be worth it in the end."

"Ok," Derek said, not entirely convinced but deciding to change tactics slightly, "then is there some way that I can stay in contact with you if we split up again? I'm not a fan of not knowing where you are or what's going on."

"Yes, actually," Stiles responded. Derek almost tripped in his surprise that the answer wasn't no. Stiles quickly grabbed his upper arm to keep him steady before continuing. "It's a little tricky, but after we get Scott and get out of this giant hole in the ground I can teach both of you."

They pressed on, descending several hundred feet into the chasm in silence. The air became more constricting the deeper they went, the scent of fear and pain and sorrow overpowering everything else. Derek did his best to focus on Stiles and the faint traces of pack he could still catch here and there off of him. As they continued their downward climb, it became the only thing keeping him from succumbing to depression himself. It obviously affected Stiles as well, though not as much as it did the werewolf.

Derek was just about ready to say they should abandon the whole thing because it was clearly meaningless when Stiles held out his hand once more to stop him. "We're here," he said solemnly, the hint of a tear glistening in his eye as he said it.

Derek stood shocked once more, something that was becoming far too regular of an occurrence for his liking. The door in question was easily recognizable now that they were up close. It was the door to Scott's bedroom in the house he and Melissa used to live in before they were forced to go on the run. Derek himself had broken this door down, or at least its real world counterpart, about a year ago. Monroe's hunters had attacked, crippling Scott with wolfsbane, chaining him to his bed, and setting the house on fire. It was a page straight out of Kate Argent's playbook, and it had enraged Derek to the point that he had almost lost all control of himself. Stiles had been there, tethering him back to reality enough for Derek and Liam to rush in and drag Scott and Melissa to safety while the rest of the pack pushed the hunters back. Derek had kicked the door down only to find Scott unconscious, barely breathing, and engulfed in flames. He tore through the shackles, not even noticing the searing heat as his own flesh burned, quickly pulling Scott off of the bed and hurdling them both out his window. Stiles had, naturally, been the one to notice what happened first, running over to them with a tattered blanket he kept in his Jeep that he used to pat out the last remnants of the fire from their bodies. They had almost lost Scott that night, Stiles breaking the speed limit several times over as he rushed their alpha to Deaton's hideout (the clinic had already been permanently closed by that point after the death threats and such). Once Scott had recovered, the pack officially decided to leave the town of Beacon Hills in favor of hiding in the Preserve.

"Are you still with me back there?" Stiles' voice called from a distance, breaking his reverie.

"What?" he spluttered, shaking his head slightly and landing back in the here-and-now reality of their situation, "Yeah, sorry, this door just brought back some memories is all."

Stiles smiled sadly in understanding, "I know what you mean." He didn't press for details the way he normally would, something that Derek was very grateful for. They stood there in silence for another minute or two, each staring at the door in question.

"So," Derek said, "do we just knock, or what?"

Stiles stared at him incredulously, "are you being serious? Or, is the stoicwolf himself actually making a joke right now? I honestly can't tell."

Derek simply smacked him upside the head in answer, "what do we do next?"

"Alright, alright, no need for violence," Stiles replied, turning back to the door. "No knocking, we just go in. I have no idea what we will find in there though. Nobody I've talked to down here has been inside one of these rooms, but they all say that whatever happens in here is the stuff nightmares are made of. So…think happy thoughts, I guess, and get ready for whatever we are about to walk into."

Derek tensed, his stomach plummeting with each statement. Nevertheless, he readied himself as best he could, refusing to show weakness or be outdone by whatever this world could throw at him. He let his fangs and claws extend slightly as Stiles reached out towards the doorknob, slowly turning it and inching the door open. Derek felt a cold wave of dread and panic sweep over him, as though the door had been holding back a flood and opening it had released it to cascade down upon him. He gritted his teeth, trying to push the raw emotions aside as he inched forward behind Stiles into the darkness that lay behind the door.

The door closed behind them of its own accord once they were inside. With it shut, the room, or whatever they were in, was plunged into total darkness, so complete that even his glowing werewolf eyes barely penetrated more than a few inches. Stiles stopped in front of him, clearly unsure of what to do. Derek took a deep breath, smelling the confusion and fear coming off of him. He pushed that aside as well, focusing his senses on the room itself. With another lungful, he caught a different familiar scent and nearly choked. It was Scott's, but not at the same time. Scott was in pain. Not physical pain, but rather emotional pain, a pain deeper than Derek had ever felt, deeper than he had ever smelled on anyone. He could tell Scott was in total despair and agony, feeling a torture so complete there was no way anything they had experienced on earth could compare.

"He's this way," Derek whispered, pressing around Stiles and grabbing his hand to lead him as he followed his alpha's smell down what felt like a long hallway. The smell of grief and anguish became stronger the further they went, so much so that it took all of Derek's willpower to keep going instead of breaking down then and there. As they progressed, a soft, bluish light began to shimmer at the end of the tunnel, just enough to make their surroundings visible in an eerie sort of way. The air was so thick with Scott's emotions that Derek was beginning to struggle to breathe again, only managing to continue on when he felt a firm, familiar hand squeeze his shoulder from behind. Now that he was sure where Scott was, Derek tried to push the smells out, instead focusing on the packmate behind him. Stiles was also clearly scared and grief-stricken, but it was a more manageable scent and Derek was able to continue on the rest of the way down the hall.

They reached the end of the hall in silence, finding the source of the faint blue light to be a translucent screen over the entire length of the doorway. It was like looking through a computer screen from the wrong side. On the other side of the door/screen was a staircase, similar to the one in the McCall house, that led down to a round rock cavern. On the floor of the cave lay Scott, writhing around in obvious pain and clawing at his eyes and ears. It looked like he may also be shouting or crying out, but no sound came from the room at all. On the opposite side of the cave, on what appeared to be a balcony attached to the wall, stood a demon, watching the young man below him with rapt attention.

Derek sensed Stiles transforming into his demon again behind him, causing him to turn around. "What are you doing!" he whispered, not wanting the demon inside to notice them.

"I have an idea," Demon-Stiles said quietly, "I just need you to trust me." The demon's voice rumbled around them, causing Derek to panic slightly and turn quickly to make sure the other hadn't heard. The demon inside never wavered, though, continuing to watch Scott without moving a muscle.

"Stiles, I hate it when you do that," Derek said, whipping back around, "and I hate it when you lead off by saying to trust you. That never ends well."

"You're probably right," Demon-Stiles sighed. In another setting it might actually be humorous, seeing an eight-foot tall demon shrug the way Stiles would. Here, though, it just came out intimidating. "But I'm reasonably sure this will work." Derek crossed his arms over his chest but remained silent, indicating that Stiles should continue. "We're going to go in, and I'm going to throw you down the stairs. Then I'll fly up to the other demon and tell him I was told to bring you here. It should confuse him, and hopefully he'll fly off to check the record room. That should buy us enough time to get Scott out of here."

"Stiles, that's a stupid plan," Derek groaned.

"Do you have a better one?" the demon retorted, adding just enough menace to his voice to make Derek afraid.

"N-n-n-no," he stuttered.

"Then let's go with mine," Demon-Stiles said, "just stay on the ground and don't draw attention to yourself while we're in there." Derek groaned again, inwardly this time, before turning around to face the blue screen in front of them. He took a deep breath, readying himself for what he was sure must be certain death, when a shove from behind sent him tumbling through the screen and down the stairs.

The first thing Derek was hit with were the sounds. The screen had been some sort of barrier blocking them, but the moment he passed through it, he could here Scott's agonizing cries and screams. Most of it was incoherent, Derek only being able to make out the occasional word like "no" or "sorry." The second thing he noticed was that the emotions he'd smelled and felt in the hallway were only a fraction of the real thing. In here it was exponentially worse, gut-wrenching. The despair and grief rolled off of their young alpha in waves. It was so nauseating that it took all of Derek's concentration to not throw up. The third thing he noticed was that the demon watching/guarding Scott was not pleased by the interruption, and, no matter how stupid Stiles claimed they were, it was not fooled by Stiles' arguments.

"What are you doing here?" it thundered from its sentry post above them.

"I was told to bring this one here," Demon-Stiles replied. Derek sneaked a glance upwards, noticing that Stiles had flown up and was now hovering in the air directly in front of the other demon, whose wings had also unfurled in agitation.

"Why?" it demanded, beginning to hover in the air slightly as well.

"I do not know," Demon-Stiles said, sounding unconcerned.

"That one does not belong here," the demon replied, pointing a clawed finger at Derek, who quickly looked away and instead turned to face Scott. That, however, was a mistake, because seeing him while also smelling and hearing him made it all so much worse.

"This is where I was told to bring him," Demon-Stiles insisted, "maybe you should go check the records if he does not belong here."

"No," the other demon nearly shouted, "I will not leave this post until my time is complete. Take that one and go yourself."

"Are you sure?" Demon-Stiles said, "I could watch them both while you go check…"

"Enough!" the demon screeched, rising into the air several feet, "you are no _kakodaimones._ What are you?"

"Well, so much for that idea," Demon-Stiles said with a sigh, "I guess we'll go with Plan B."

"What's plan…" Derek was cut off before he could finish his question as the two demons screeched again and lunged at one another in vicious assault. The battle was unlike anything Derek had ever seen. The demons were even more powerful than he had realized, landing punches that would easily fell a tree and scratching with claws that could eviscerate even a werewolf with a simple flick. Derek ran over to Scott, using the aerial fight as cover. He quickly grabbed the alpha's arms, prying them away from his face only to look on in horror at the gruesome sight they had created. "Scott!" Derek shouted at him, trying to snap him out of whatever was going on, "Scott! You need to wake up! Focus on my voice, come back, come on!"

Scott was oblivious to it all, not registering a single word Derek said. _What am I supposed to do,_ he thought angrily, glaring around at his surroundings for inspiration. He tried pinching and slapping the younger wolf, but neither had any effect. He tried dragging him towards the stairs, but was interrupted by one of the demons crashing to the ground, blocking his way, while the other landed on top of him. It was impossible to tell which was which, or which was really getting the upper hand as the one on the ground quickly swiped the other's feet out from under it, freeing itself to take off into the air once more with another ungodly screech. Both demons were bleeding from various gashes at this point, something Derek found very disconcerting since both his and Belasko's claws had been unable to penetrate the demonic skin.

"Stiles!" Derek cried out at the combatants in the air. One of the demons turned to glance at him briefly before diving at the other once more. It was enough for Derek to place which one was his friend. Leaving Scott for the moment, Derek sprung into action to help, leaping up to the top of the staircase and then using the momentum to thrust himself towards the demon's balcony. He barely made it, scrambling to get ahold of the ledge and then somersaulting into it. The balcony contained some sort of control panel with a few assorted runes and circles, but Derek didn't have time to investigate right this second. He watched the battle going on in midair just above him carefully, keeping track of where Stiles was and timing his next move just right.

Demon-Stiles landed a particularly devastating blow to the other demon's midsection, stunning it enough that it dropped a few feet. It was enough. Derek leapt from the balcony onto the other demon's back, wrapping his arms around it's neck in a stranglehold.

"Get off, beast!" the demon cried out, struggling to keep itself in the air with Derek's weight constricting the movement of its wings. Its claws scraped along Derek's arms, cutting deep into the tissue and leaving gouge marks all along them. The pain was almost enough to make him lose his grip.

"Now, Stiles!" Derek cried out as the demon managed to pry one of his arms away, effectively shaking him off. Demon-Stiles wasted no time. The second the demon was free of Derek's grip, before it could react in any way, Stiles was there, plunging his own claws deep into the demon's neck. The demon wailed, gurgling as blood gushed from the wound. Derek was thrown from its back, landing in a heap on the staircase. The injured demon plummeted back to the ground, hands clutching its throat and wings crumpling at odd angles beneath its body. It struggled for another minute or so, then went still.

Demon-Stiles landed on the ground a few feet away, advancing cautiously towards the other demon. "Is it dead?" Derek asked, tentatively.

"I don't know," Demon-Stiles replied, "Can you kill something that isn't actually alive?" Derek hadn't thought about that, but he supposed it was a valid question. He watched anxiously as Stiles knelt down slightly to get a closer look at the unmoving demon on the ground. "I don't know if it's dead," he said eventually, "but it's no longer breathing, or moving. So I'm going to count that as a win."

Derek was about to retort when their attention was brought back to the other occupant of the cavern. Scott let out an ear-piercing scream, one that struck right to the core of Derek's chest. "Well, killing it didn't release Scott from whatever is going on with him," Stiles said, now slowly approaching his best friend with equal trepidation.

"The balcony," Derek called out, picking himself off the ground and hurrying over to his friends. "There's some sort of control panel up there. Maybe you can make sense of it and turn off whatever is causing this." Stiles wordlessly took off, landing gracefully inside the balcony. From this vantage point he looked exactly like the demon they had first seen up there, stoically watching the boy writhing in pain on the floor.

Demon-Stiles pressed a few things, placing his palms in different spots, experimenting with the controls as he tried to figure out how to work the thing. "Oh no!" he gasped suddenly, "this is horrible!"


	6. Brothers Reunited

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi all again! Sooo, this chapter was a little more challenging to write than the others, and I'm still not entirely settled with it. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 6: Brothers Reunited

Demon-Stiles pressed a few things, placing his palms in different spots, experimenting with the controls as he tried to figure out how to work the thing. "Oh no!" he gasped suddenly, "this is horrible!"

"What? What's horrible?" Derek called up, glancing between the balcony above and Scott writhing in anguish before him. Stiles grimaced, a strange expression for a demon to wear, as he continued to poke and prod the control panel.

"I…don't really know how to describe it," he said, losing focus and simply watching Scott on the ground below. He paused for a moment before speaking again, snapping back to his senses and returning his attention to the controls. "But I think I can show you."

"Show…" Derek began, but was cut off by a scream.

"It's all your fault, Scott!" Allison screamed at the young man at her feet. The entire room had suddenly turned foggy, and out of the fog Allison Argent had emerged, shouting obscenities at Scott. "You destroyed my family! Everything was fine until you showed up!"

"She's right!" Christ Argent had now stepped out of the fog as well, taking a stand next to his daughter, a look of pure rage on his face, worse than any Derek had seen the man wear in life. "You…you killed my sister. You conspired against her, making everyone believe she was responsible for the Hale fire, when she was innocent all along." His tone of voice was much softer, but far more sinister. "And then, if that wasn't enough, you took my wife from me, you and Derek killed her in cold blood. All Victoria wanted was to protect her family, and you destroyed her. And my father. Gerard was driven mad by you and your pack. Everything he did, all that senseless violence, it's all on you, Scott!"

"Stiles! What's going on?" Derek called out as the fog versions of Chris and Allison continued to rattle off Scott's supposed sins.

"I don't know," Demon-Stiles yelled back, "this control panel is powered by demonic magic. I can work it, but I have no idea what half this stuff is. So far, all I do know is that, whatever it is doing, this" he gestured with his hands towards the fog, "is what Scott is seeing and hearing."

"Well, figure out how to make it stop!" Derek cried out over the renewed sobs of his alpha. Whatever Stiles had done had also made Scott's voice much clearer, and much more painful to listen to.

"I know, I know!" he said, still clawing at his eyes and ears in desperation, "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean to do it, I swear! It's all my fault, all my fault. What have I done?"

"You want to know what you have done?" a see-through version of Malia stepped forward to replace the Argents. "You destroyed my life, that's what you've done! I was fine as a coyote, happy! I lived half of my life in those woods. It was simple, I could forget about what happened to my family, I could forget the Desert Wolf killing my adoptive mother and sister. I was at peace. And then you come along and force me to change back to human. And for what? So you could forget all about me afterwards while they locked me up in Eichen House? Do you have any idea what they did to me in there? Or how hard it was to try to adjust to life as a human? Or how hard school was when I was six grades behind? And then when you finally remembered that I existed, all I was to you was a way for you to be stronger. I didn't mean anything to you. I was just a soldier to fight your battles or a shield to protect you from harm. I should have mattered more to you than that! You did this to me!"

"I'm sorry!" Scott bolted upright, staring unseeing at ghost-Malia through what was left of his mangled, blood-covered eyes. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Oh, you want to make it up to us?" Malia stepped aside as a vision of Liam took her place. "How do you expect to do that Scott? You think you can just say some magic words and it'll all be better? You think you can just say you're sorry and we will forgive you? Well, it's not gonna work! You ruined my life too. After everything at Devenford, all I wanted was a fresh start, a place where I could belong, maybe even be liked. But you couldn't handle that. The big, alpha werewolf got jealous of the boy who was better at lacrosse than him. You attacked me and sent me to the hospital, putting me in danger. You make such a big deal about how 'I had to bite you to save your life,' but it's your fault I needed saving in the first place! And then what do you do? You kidnap me and tie me up in your bedroom! And that was just the beginning. You were supposed to be my alpha, but you ignored me all the time, you didn't want to do anything to help me learn to be a proper werewolf, you didn't care about me or my friends. There's no way you can take it all back or make it up to me! You destroyed me! I hate you, Scott!"

"No! No, no, no, no. Please!" Scott's voiced came out strangled, like he was choking on each word. It broke Derek's heart to hear the pain in them.

"Stiles…hurry!" Derek said, struggling to speak himself.

"I'm trying Derek, trust me I've never tried so hard in my life," Stiles replied. And indeed, when Derek looked up he could see the demon moving in a whirlwind, poking, pushing, slapping every inch of the panel in front of him. His wings unfurled haphazardly, threatening to hit the wall or cause him to take off in mid-air at any moment.

"Please, he says! You're going to beg? How pathetic," Liam and Malia had disappeared, Jackson and Isaac materializing in their place. Jackson's voice was laced with more venom and malice than should be humanly possible as he spoke, "Absolutely pathetic McCall. You're just a nobody; a pathetic, winy loser. All you do is hurt people. That's why your dad left you. That's why you have no friends. Well," he scoffed, "no friends who aren't even more pathetic than you are."

"Wait!" Demon-Stiles called out, gasping at the scene going on below him, "I remember this! I wonder…"

"What do you mean you remember this?" Derek tore his gaze from the ghostly figures in front of him to watch the demon above instead. "Stiles!" But the demon didn't answer, furiously pounding away at the controls with newfound inspiration.

"It's your fault, Scott," Jackson continued speaking, but his voice changed, deeper, as if he was now several years older. "I know what everyone thinks of me now, because I became a kanima, but you and I both know it's your fault that it happened. You thought you were too good for me, too perfect to be friends with me or help me find a family I could belong in. That's all I wanted, I wanted to be like you and Derek, to be a part of your pack. And instead you rejected me. Everything the kanima did, it happened because of you!"

"I know! I know!" Scott sobbed, turning away from the ghostly images in front of him.

"I trusted you, Scott," Jackson's voice was replaced by Isaac's. He was quiet, the picture of brokenness and hurt standing before Scott. To Derek, it was worse than all the screaming. "I thought you would be different. I just…I tried so hard. But I guess I'm not good enough either. Everyone leaves me. My mom, my brother, my dad, Derek. I wanted you to be different."

"No, Isaac! I'm sorry. Please, give me another chance!"

"There are no second chances Scott!" Jackson and Isaac dissolved and in their place stood a ghost version of Derek. The real Derek did a double take, terrified of what this version of him was going to say. "The real world doesn't work that way. In the real world, you either live or you die. And the hunters aren't going to wait for you to decide which one you want. So stop acting like a stupid, selfish child and grow up!"

"I will, I will!" Scott cried out. Derek looked on in horror as the realization hit him. He remembered this conversation, it had happened shortly after Scott had become an alpha.

"You don't deserve this gift you've been given," ghost-Derek continued, breaking real Derek's concentration.

"Stiles, get this to stop. Now!" Derek really did not want to relive the next part of this conversation, especially having to see the alpha in question breaking down in front of him so completely.

"I can't!" Stiles replied, desperation evident by his tone. "But I think I figured out how to alter it!"

"Then do it for God's sake!" Derek shouted, trying to drown out the other Derek. Thankfully, the scene abruptly changed right at that moment, ghost-Derek transforming into ghost-Stiles.

"Crap!" Demon-Stiles said, looking down at the scene below. "No, no, no, no, no, no. We can't go down this path."

"You're a terrible friend Scott. I mean…I just…I can't. My mom just died and you come here complaining about your mom and dad arguing? You know what, at least you still have both of your parents. I hate you! I never want to see you again!" this Stiles-mist said, sounding much younger than the Stiles Derek had known.

"Stiles, I'm sorry!"

"Oh, Scotty. No, you're not. But, guess what? You will be!" Stiles' voice sounded much older, and more sinister, this time. "You know, the Stiles that was your friend is long gone." Derek groaned as he realized that Void Stiles was now the one speaking. "Gone forever. All because of you, your little sacrifice to save your friends. How noble. How stupid! Although, I suppose I should be thanking you. Without you, Scott, I never would have been able to come out and play!"

"Stiles!" both Derek and Scott yelled in unison, though it was directed at different versions of the boy in question.

"Scott?" ghost-Stiles disappeared, replaced instead by the sound of heavy breathing. It was Stiles' voice, but he sounded completely terrified and in pain.

"Hey, yeah, I'm here. Are you ok? Can you here me?" Scott was frantically turning in every direction, searching for the source of the voice.

"Scott, I don't know where I am, I don't know how I got here. I think I was sleepwalking," Stiles sounded desperate, a sound that tortured Derek's very soul.

"Ok, uh, um, can you see anything? Just tell me what you see," Scott called out to the mist.

"It's dark, it's hard to see. Hold on, there's something wrong with my…" Stiles' voice cut off suddenly. Scott got up off the ground suddenly, acting like he was holding something in his hand before bringing it back up to his ear.

"Hey!" they heard Stiles' voice, much calmer and happier this time.

"Stiles!" Scott interjected before being cut off.

"This is Stiles and you missed me. Hey! This is Stiles and you missed me. Hey! This is Stiles and you missed me." The words repeated over and over as Scott began clawing at his hair and face, slowly withdrawing into a panic.

"You know Scott, I don't think you do miss Stiles," ghost-Stiles reappeared, standing just behind Scott. "He was just holding you back anyway. You're better off without him. I mean really, a human in a wolf pack? It was suicide from the very beginning. You know, I bet Stiles is the reason your pack fell apart. Always having to look after him, always having to protect him, letting him weaken you."

"No! No! No!" Scott screamed at the air in front of him.

"Scott! Hang on buddy, don't listen to him," Demon-Stiles called down, frantically slamming his fist into the control panel in an effort to change what was happening.

"Stiles, you have to do something. Come on, you're better than this!" Derek yelled up to the demon above him.

"I don't know what to do," Demon-Stiles called back as Void-Stiles continued taunting Scott. "I've figured out that these visions are actually memories, Scott's memories. Although I'm also sure some of them only happened in his head, or his dreams, or something. But I don't know how to get it to stop."

"Then can you at least show him some happy memories?" Derek asked.

The demon stared at him dumbstruck for just a moment. "Oh my god, I could kiss you right now Derek Hale," Demon-Stiles said gleefully, jumping up and down as he pushed a few more buttons on the panel. Derek blushed at the words, but it thankfully went unnoticed as the scene surrounding them changed once again. The fog became a lighter color, and the only sound that remained for a moment came from Scott's laborious breathing. Then Allison reappeared, pressed up against Scott.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, glancing around nervously.

"Nothing," Scott replied, just as nervous.

"Part of you is doing something," Allison said, briefly glancing downwards.

"Oh…sorry," nervousness turned to embarrassment as Scott figured out what she meant.

"Stop!"

"I…kind of don't have control over that."

"Stiles! What are we watching?" Derek cringed as the scene continued to play out before him. The demon was shaking in silent laughter above him.

"I have…no idea…" he said, trying to catch his breath, "it was…the first thing I…could find that looked happy."

"Well, find something else. I don't want to know where this is going!"

"Aww, you're no fun," the demon replied, nevertheless returning to playing with the control panel. The fog changed again, this time becoming much darker as the sound of rain echoed around the room. Kira ran through the fog towards Scott, grinning madly.

"Did you have fun in New York?" he asked, as they reached one another.

"Not really," she replied, shaking her head.

"Good!" Scott said, pressing his lips to hers. The two locked together, exploring each other's mouths with their tongues and bodies with their arms.

"Argh, Stiles! How much more of this are we going to have to watch?" Derek called out.

"Ok, ok. So, here's my guess. The demons were using Scott's mind against him, torturing him with all the painful memories from his past. If we can get him to remember that he has these memories, and people that care about him, that should break the hold this weird machine has on him."

"That's fine, but can you use something that doesn't involve Scott's love life?"

"Sure, but it won't be as entertaining," Demon-Stiles grinned mischievously as he fiddled with the controls some more.

"Are you enjoying this?" Derek asked, growling under his breath.

"Maybe a little," Demon-Stiles replied. "What? I've never been inside Scott's head before. Now we're even."

Derek was about to protest some more when the fog shifted and Liam stepped forward.

"How about I take you home," Scott said to the young beta.

"I'm not like you," Liam replied.

"Not yet."

"I don't mean I'm not strong, or I'm never going to learn how to be in control. I mean everything else. You and your friends try to protect everyone. Have you been doing this the whole time? I mean, how are you all still alive?" Liam looked close to tears, and Derek could hear the desperation in his voice.

"Not all of us are," Scott replied, a faraway look in his eyes. Suddenly, the room around them began to shake, and the fog momentarily lifted.

"What's going on?" Scott cried out.

"Stiles?" Derek called, stepping forward to steady the alpha.

"That's it!" Stiles replied, picking himself up off of the floor of the balcony. "We just need to get Scott to feel the connections he has to the pack, and that'll bring him out of this!"

"Good. Keep going!" Derek said, enthusiasm beginning to mirror the demon's. The fog shifted again, becoming much clearer than before, as though it was starting to fade away.

"Get to class Liam," Scott said as the school bell rang. Liam exchanged glances with Scott and a newly materialized Derek before walking away.

"What are you smiling about?" Scott asked, seeing the change in ghost-Derek's expression.

"You're going to be good at this," he replied. The room began to shake again, though not as much as it had the first time.

"Use yourself!" Derek called out, realization dawning on him.

"What?!" Demon-Stiles replied, face a mixture of confusion and horror.

"You said Scott needs to feel his connections to his pack. There's no one he's more connected to than you. Use the memories he has of you."

"Oh," Stiles said. The demon went absolutely still for a moment, lost in thought. His breathing hitched slightly as he reached out to the control panel once again. The scene around them changed once more, this time another ghost-Stiles appearing, seated on the bench of an MRI machine in the hospital.

"You know what they're looking for, right?" this Stiles asked, looking at Scott, who seemed to be struggling to return the eye contact. "It's called frontotemporal dementia…Areas of your brain start to shrink. It's what my mother had. It's the only form of dementia…than can hit teenagers…and there's no cure."

Scott struggled internally for a moment, a mixture of emotions pouring off of him before he came to a resolution. "Stiles, if you have it, we'll do something." He finally looked up, meeting his friend's eyes for the first time, "I'll do something."

A silent exchange took place between the two friends before they simultaneously embraced one another, tears beginning to flow from them both.

"This is what you were talking about earlier, isn't it?" Derek asked the other Stiles in the room quietly, feeling the heaviness in the air coming from both Scott's and Stiles' emotions.

"Yes," Demon-Stiles said quietly, unable to tear his eyes away from the memory in front of him. As the demon shed a tear, the entire room shook once again, much more violently than before. All three of them were knocked to the ground.

"Stiles?" Scott called out, groping around as he tried to get back up, "what's going on? Where am I?"

"Scott? Scott!" Demon-Stiles shouted back. The moment of clarity was lost though, and Scott had gone back to the memory, picking up where it left off before the earthquake.

"You almost got it!" Derek exclaimed. "Quick, use something else. What's the strongest memory you have of being connected to Scott?"

The demon thought for a moment before true horror crossed his face. "No, I can't relive that."

"Come on Stiles! We almost have him back. Please!" Derek pleaded with him, confused by the reaction when it should be obvious what needs to be done.

"You're not going to like it either," Stiles replied quietly.

"It doesn't matter, we just need it to work." Derek said, trying to bring out as much confidence and authority as he could muster.

"Fine," the demon said, placing a palm on the control panel with a look of resignation, "don't say I didn't warn you."

The fog shifted, clearing up in order to give way to another scene. Stiles rematerialized, along with Lydia and Allison. The first thing that hit Derek was the smell of complete depression pouring off of Scott. It nearly made him choke.

"Scott," Allison said, stepping in front of the others and leading them around to face him. Stiles, Lydia, and Allison cautiously gathered around Scott, who stood silently, looking at the ground. "Scott?" she said again, uncertainly. Some form of liquid began to drip off of Scott. Derek sniffed the air, confirming that it was gasoline.

"There's no hope," Scott said, looking at the ghost images in front of him. His voice once again struck to Derek's core in pain.

"What do you mean, Scott? There's always hope," Allison replied.

"Not for me…not for Derek…" Scott continued staring into the distance.

"Derek wasn't your fault, you know Derek wasn't your fault," Allison said, trying, and failing, to stay calm.

"Every time I try to fight back, it just gets worse. People keep getting hurt. People keep getting killed…"

"Scott," ghost-Stiles interjected, stepping forward, "listen to me ok, this isn't you. Alright, this is someone inside your head telling you to do this. Ok?"

"What if it isn't?" Scott said forlornly, "What if it is just me? What if doing this is actually the best thing that I could do for everyone else?" Scott began to shake and tears, both in ghost form and real, fell, mixing with the gas. "It all started that night, the night I got bitten. You remember the way it was before that? You and me?" Scott made eye contact with the ghost-Stiles in front of him as he continued, "We were…we were nothing. We weren't popular, we weren't good at lacrosse…we weren't important. We were no one. Maybe I should just be no one again…no one at all!"

"Scott just listen to me, ok" Stiles began, a note of resolution in his voice as he continued to step forward. "You're not no one. Ok? You're someone." Tears began to fall from ghost-Stiles as well. "Scott, you're my best friend. Ok, and I need you. Sc…Scott you're my brother. Alright, so…if we're gonna do this then…you're just going to have to take me with you."

Scott let out a few ragged breaths. Everything went still and silent for a second. Then, suddenly, an explosion of light and sound hit them, the room dissolving into chaos. The entire cave shook violently, throwing the wolves to the ground as the fog disappeared. Derek looked up in time to see the balcony above them crumble to pieces, giant sections of it crashing to the ground. Demon-Stiles had taken flight to avoid falling, but was hit by debris from the ceiling as it too began to crumble.

"Stiles!" Scott cried out from Derek's left.

"Scott?" Derek asked, tentatively, crawling over to his alpha while trying to dodge the rocks cascading around him.

"Derek!" Scott called back, "Derek, what's happening? Where are…ah!" Scott screamed in pain as a small boulder slammed onto his leg.

"Scott, hold on!" Derek tried desperately to reach him, but the earthquake kept him too unbalanced and the falling rocks blocked his path. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. The room went still and silent once more, save for the sounds of a few final rocks sliding and the ragged breathing of the wolves. Derek jumped to his feet instantly, dashing over to his alpha and shoving the boulder off of his leg. "Scott, are you still with me?" Derek asked, looking down at his fallen friend. Scott was in terrible shape, far worse than Derek had realized when he had stood at a distance in the dark and fog. Very little of the man's face remained intact, Scott himself having clawed and ripped his way through most of it in what Derek could only guess had been fruitless attempts at stopping the voices and scenes around him. His leg was badly broken and crushed from the boulder, and several other less severe injuries dotted his torso and arms. He still managed a small smile as he looked, unseeing, up at Derek.

"Yeah, I'm here," he said softly, and relief flooded Derek as he relaxed, at least until Scott spoke again.

"Derek, where's Stiles?" Scott asked, beginning to scent the air slightly in search of his friend. Derek's anxiety went into overdrive once more as he began turning in every direction to find the young man in question.

"I'm over here," Stiles called out from a distance, his human voice having replaced the demon's voice. Derek turned to his right and saw a small, pasty arm waving at him from the ground. Derek rushed over and found Stiles also trapped beneath a pile of rubble. "I kind of got knocked down. Do you mind helping me get unstuck?" Derek shook his head slightly and began shifting the rocks away to free his friend. As he worked, Scott half-hobbled, half-crawled over to where they were.

"Um, you guys, where are we?" Scott asked, still sniffing the air.

"Well, Scotty, it's a long story," Stiles said laboriously from the ground, "but the short answer is that we are in Hell!"

Derek groaned audibly, "Stiles, are you going to do that every time we find someone?"

"Probably," Stiles said with a half shrug.

"I'm confused," Scott added, sitting on another pile of rocks and turning from Derek to Stiles.

Stiles sighed before continuing on. "We're in the Underworld, Hades, Purgatory, Limbo, the world of the dead, the place where everyone comes when they pass on. Hell. Or at least the first stage of it. Don't worry, it just gets more confusing the more you know," he said happily.

"So…we're dead?" Scott asked, uncertainty etching his features.

"Yeah, Scott, we are," Stiles said quietly, "well, you and I are. Derek is just visiting. I'll tell you about that later," he added, seeing the confusion coming from Scott, "do you not remember dying?"

"I don't know," Scott said, "everything is really hazy at the moment. I feel like someone ripped everything out of my head and put it back in the wrong order."

"I think that's kind of what actually happened," Stiles said, looking up at his friend in contemplation. Scott ignored him and continued on.

"I…remember the hunters chasing us. And the pack…we lost so many people," he said sadly, "and I remember…I remember you…Stiles, you…you…" His voice hitched, as though he was trying to hold back sobs.

"I died," Stiles said simply, finishing the sentence for him. Scott broke down at the words, cradling his head in his hands as the tears began to fall freely. Derek shoved the remaining rocks off of Stiles and then sat down on the ground, unsure if he should say or do anything. Stiles' body was a mess, but now that he was free he got up to move over and sit next to Scott, wrapping his friend in a tight embrace and drawing the mangled wolf in against his chest.

"It's ok Scott," he said soothingly, voice light and calm. "Shh, I'm here now, everything is going to be alright."

"No, it's not," Scott said brokenly, "you're dead, and it's all my fault."

Stiles groaned before replying. "It's not your fault Scott. And it's not your fault either, Derek, in case you start getting those thoughts again," he glared daggers at the older wolf briefly before turning his attention back to the one he was holding. "The only people to blame for me dying are the hunters in the woods who attacked us and Gerard and Monroe for putting them up to it. Nobody else. Scott, you can't blame yourself for what they did. Scott…"

Scott managed to stifle his tears, pulling himself back together as he sat upright again to face Stiles directly. "Stiles, it was my job to protect you."

"And you did, Scott. You did beautifully. You kept me going through everything that happened, you kept me alive during everything else that happened to us. You stopped me from killing myself…twice. You saved me from the Nogitsune and the Ghost Riders. Scott, you did everything you could. And not just for me either. You brought our pack together, kept us alive through impossible situations. Scott, no one could ask for anything more than what you did. You gotta let all this blaming yourself and self-doubt go."

"But Stiles," Scott began, but he was quickly cut off as Stiles placed a hand over his mouth.

"Scott, I meant what I said way back there. You're not a nobody. Scott, you are my best friend. You are my brother. I'm proud of you. I'm proud of what you've done. Scott, I love you. Please, let everything else go." Stiles had moved his hand from Scott's mouth to his shoulder, bringing the other one up as well to draw them back into a tight embrace.

"Ok," Scott whispered into Stiles' shoulder. They collapsed into one another, the scent of relief and happiness overpowering the depression permeating the air. After a few minutes they pulled apart, and the first thing Derek noticed was that their physical injuries seemed to have healed substantially during their conversation. Scott had eyes again, and now that his sight had returned he began to look around what was left of the room they were in. "So, um, where are we again?"

At that moment a sudden screeching noise echoed through the room, breaking their brief moment of reprieve. Derek was on the move instantly, jumping to his feet to rush over and help the other two up as well. "We'll explain on the way," he said, trying to hide the worry in his voice as he positioned himself between his two injured friends so they could each lean on him as they walked.

"Once we get somewhere safe," Stiles added, moving slowly beside him, "preferably without being seen."

"Seen by who?" Scott asked.

"That," Stiles replied, pointing at a demon clawing through the debris in front of them.

"Oh."


	7. And Then There Were Three

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has favorited/followed this story so far! I'm so glad others want to take this crazy journey with me. A special thank you to xSaddyx for giving this story it's first review. Without further ado, here's the next installment…

Chapter 7: And Then There Were Three

"Quickly, hide!" Stiles said in a whisper as the wolves around him hastened to obey. They were not as stealthy as they would like to be, since Scott and Stiles were still recovering from their injuries, but they managed to conceal themselves in the debris before the demon finished clearing away the entrance to the room and stepped inside. It was quickly followed by two others.

"Krepak, where are you? What is going on?" the first demon called to the room, letting its wings carry it over the debris as it scanned the room.

"I do not think he is here," the second demon said, wandering around the perimeter slowly.

The third remained in the entrance, letting out a terrifying screech as it spoke, "what could have caused this? No magic-wielders are allowed in the Suicide Pit." Scott gasped and recoiled slightly at those words, but remained hidden beside Stiles, who gently laid a hand on his arm in reassurance.

"Krepak will pay for this," the second demon growled as it reached the remains of the control panel.

"He already has," the first said, descending to the ground where the mangled body of the demon Derek and Stiles had fought were. "There does not appear to be much left of him." From their location, it was impossible for the three friends to see what was going on. They soon heard the sounds of shifting debris and deduced that the demons were unburying their fallen kin.

"He is gone, there is no use in doing any more," the third demon said eventually, still perched at the entrance to the cave. "Complete the parting ritual and let's be done with it." There was a brief pause before all three demons let out an ear-splitting cry and a violent wind swept through the room as they each took flight, chanting in some unknown language. The ritual lasted another minute or two, and then the three landed back along the remains of the staircase.

"What about the _doulos_ that was being kept in here?" the second demon asked as the others began to leave. The first stopped and turned, scanning the room once again.

The third continued walking up the treacherous stairs, "he is surely passed from this realm. If Krepak could not survive this, no _doulos_ could. I will not waste any more time here."

"What should we do with this chamber?" the first demon asked, continuing to scrutinize its surroundings.

"Find Tobolsk, have him prepare this room for future use, and tell him to figure out what happened here," the third demon answered before giving one final screech and disappearing down the corridor and out of the cave. The remaining demons shifted a few more rocks before following their leader's example and disappearing down the corridor.

Derek, Stiles, and Scott waited with bated breath for another few moments, making sure the demons were truly gone, before slowly working themselves out of their hiding spot.

"What…were those?" Scott asked, breaking the silence as he stared towards the exit, as though afraid asking might bring them back.

" _Kakodaimones,_ or at least that's what they call themselves," Stiles replied nonchalantly, "I think the term demon works just as well, personally."

"Demon?" Scott asked, turning to face Stiles with a blank expression on his face.

"Well, yeah," Stiles answered with a shrug, "like I said, we're in Hell, basically. Hell is where the demons live." Scott still stared at him, eyes widening by the second. "Oh, come on, Scott, it's not like this is the weirdest thing we've ever had to deal with." Stiles threw his hands in the air in exasperation, turning to Derek for help, "Right?"

"Yeah…I mean I guess…maybe," Derek stammered, surprised by being put on the spot and turning back and forth between facing Scott and facing Stiles. He eventually settled on Stiles, "I'd rather get out of here before we have to actually deal with them though."

Stiles waved his hand at Derek as he turned to peruse the cave, "too right, you are, my splutterwolf. We need to get out of here before the maintenance crew shows up."

"Ok," Scott said, shaking his head slightly and pointing at the staircase leading from the room, "so we need to go this way, right?"

"What? Of course not!" Stiles said, stopping Derek, who had begun heading that direction, in his tracks.

"What?" Scott asked, confusion pouring off of him, "it's the only way out that I can see."

"Yeah," Stiles replied, dragging the word out as if this should be incredibly obvious. When the others didn't catch on, he threw his hands in the air again while shaking his head, sighing. "Look, that corridor leads to a door, a door that is very visible from anywhere in the Suicide Pit. If we go marching out that way, it's very likely that one of the demons will notice us, and then we will have to try to fight them off. We can't go that way; which means we're going to have to figure out a different way out of here."

"I suppose you have something in mind," Derek scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the younger man.

"Maybe," Stiles said, reigning in his flailing arms and taking on a contemplative expression.

"Go on," Derek said, growling under his breath slightly.

Stiles looked up, pointing at the ceiling as he did so. "The earthquake caused a lot of rock to fall from up there. This place is full of tunnels and secret passageways and stuff. We might be able to find one up top."

"Ok, but there's just one problem," Scott said, turning his own attention to the ceiling, "there's no way we can get up there."

"Well, Scotty," Stiles said, watching his friend, "that's where you're wrong. I can get us up there."

"Huh?" Scott sounded bewildered, unsure if Stiles was being serious or not. "How?"

"Like this," Stiles grinned, then began transforming into his demon form.

"Whoa," Scott jumped backwards, losing his footing and scrambling to catch himself, "Derek, look out!" He ran over to the older wolf, attempting to pull him away.

"It's ok, Scott," Derek said calmly, refusing to budge from his position. "That was overly dramatic," he added, turning to the now fully transformed Demon-Stiles, who was laughing at the others.

"I couldn't resist," Demon-Stiles' said, voice much deeper now. The laughter stopped as he saw the fear and confusion on Scott's face. "It's me Scott; I'm still Stiles."

"How?" Scott asked, clutching Derek's arm in a now half-hearted attempt to pull him away.

"Well, that's another one of those long conversations we're going to have to have. The short version is I took over possession of a demon's body, and now I can shapeshift into him when I want. It comes in handy when you're wandering around Hell." Demon-Stiles said. Derek just shook his head as Scott finally released him and stepped forward.

"Did you know about this?" Scott asked, turning to Derek.

"Yeah, it was just as much of a shock for me the first time too. Stiles, I hope you don't plan on making a habit of scaring all of our pack with this," Derek replied.

"Well, I mean I wasn't _planning_ on doing that, specifically," Demon-Stiles said with a shrug.

"Stiles!" Derek and Scott both groaned.

"What?" he said, mock-affronted. The others' replies were abruptly cut off by the sound of a demon screeching in the distance.

"We'll talk about that later," Demon-Stiles said, spreading his wings and quickly grabbing a wolf in each arm before flying them to the top of the cave. The others were too shocked by his sudden actions to say anything. Stiles flew them into a hole that had appeared near the very center of the ceiling. Inside, they found a rough ledge that Stiles was able to set Derek and Scott down on. The ledge was too unstable to support the demon's weight, so Stiles transformed back to human in mid-air while Scott and Derek held on to him to keep him from falling back into the cave. They heard the demons entering the room below as they found a narrow opening to crawl into above. The three friends moved on in careful silence, feeling their way through the darkness further into the crevasse caused by Scott's earthquake. The space was terribly confined, so narrow that Derek (the largest of the three now that Stiles was back to human) struggled to fit the full width of his body through. He was required to journey forward at odd angles, at one point even forcibly dislocating his shoulder to make it into a particularly confined spot of the tunnel.

Eventually, they found themselves tumbling out of their claustrophobic nightmare into a proper passageway. They all took a moment to sit on the floor of the passage and regain their composure. "Well, that was fun," Stiles said, breaking the silence. His remark only earned him two wolf glares.

"Do you know where we are?" Derek asked, changing topics.

"Inside the rock that makes up the Suicide Pit," Stiles replied, turning to look down either direction of the passageway. "That way should lead back to the pit itself," he replied, pointing to his right. "So, I recommend we go this way," he said, taking off down the passage to the left without waiting for a reply. Scott simply shrugged and wordlessly followed his best friend, leaving Derek to groan audibly before following.

The trip through the passage was long, but uneventful as they slowly ascended and meandered through corridors. Stiles explained some of the details to Scott that he was missing, telling him what Limbo world was like, how he had managed to merge himself with a demon, and how he had used his newfound powers to contact Derek and Lydia and bring Derek's spirit to the underworld. Stiles also filled Scott in on their overall plan: finding the Pack and bringing them back to life. Scott listened with rapt attention, his mood shifting wildly as the conversation progressed from depression to anger to love to confusion to disbelief to hope.

After about an hour of walking they finally reached an abrupt end to their corridor, turning a corner and finding themselves facing a narrow, spiral staircase leading up to the ceiling. It appeared to be a dead-end at the top, but Stiles reminded Derek/told Scott that they were in Limbo and not everything would necessarily be as it seemed. The three friends climbed up the staircase, emerging through the seemingly solid ceiling and out onto a plateau overlooking the Suicide Pit on the opposite side from where Stiles and Derek had started.

"Whoa, what is this?" Scott asked, peering down into the abyss with a look of trepidation.

Stiles watched his friend for a moment before sitting down at the edge of the cliff and beckoning Scott to join him. "Derek," he queried, turning slightly to look up at the older man still standing at his side, "would you mind giving us a couple of minutes? I think it's time Scott and I have a little talk."

Derek caught on quickly, turning to survey the landscape as he answered. "Sure, Stiles. I'll keep a lookout for demons and anyone we might know." With that, he took off up a nearby hill, far enough that he would be able to tune out the conversation but close enough to intervene if there was danger.

"What do we need to talk about?" Scott asked.

Even without werewolf senses, Stiles could feel the nervousness pouring off of his best friend. Stiles was feeling torn in two, relieved beyond belief to have Scott back but also angry and hurt by what happened after his death. He took another moment to collect his thoughts before answering. "What do you see in this pit in front of us?" he asked.

Scott looked at him like he was crazy before turning to scrutinize the vast abyss. "I see lava, and rocks, and some demons, and maybe some pathways…and doors," he answered.

Stiles nodded along as he listened. "The demons call this the Suicide Pit. Each door you see leads to a place where someone who committed suicide is now being held. Most people, when they come here for the first time, are surprised by how many there are. I think just about everyone finds it depressing to know that many people took their own lives. But, I see something slightly different. Do you want to know what I see?"

Scott watched anxiously as a single tear slowly fell down Stiles' cheek. Stiles still refused to make eye contact, choosing instead to stare out at the abyss. "What do you see, Stiles?" Scott asked, the silence starting to get to him.

Stiles finally turned to face Scott as he answered, "I see countless people – friends, family – left behind by the ones they loved."

"Oh," Scott replied, crestfallen. He turned his gaze downward, crumpling inward slightly. Stiles turned away as well, looking back out at the abyss in front of them.

"I'm not saying they were wrong or that I don't get why they would do it. I do get it. It wasn't all that long ago that you had to talk me out of ending up here myself. But, when I look out at all those doors, it reminds me of something that came up in a conversation I had with Lydia once. Death isn't something that happens to you. Death happens to those you leave behind. And all these people left other people behind."

"Why are you telling me this?" Scott asked, a grating edge to his voice.

"Because, Scott. You are one of them. And I'm…I'm angry at you for doing it. I'm angry that Derek and I found you here. How could you do it, how could you do that, to us?" Stiles turned his whole body to face Scott now, earnestness filling his voice and features.

Scott, meanwhile, was struggling to reign himself in. "I…Stiles…argh, where do you get off asking me that? You left me!" Scott jumped to his knees, poking his finger in Stiles' chest as he spoke. "You know what, you're right Stiles, death happens to those you leave behind. And everybody…everybody left me behind! Allison…Kira…Malia…Jackson, Ethan, Liam, Theo. Everyone left me, even you!"

"But Scott, none of us chose that, ok. You understand that, right? We were all taken by hunters and Oni and Dread Doctors. We didn't get to decide what happened. You…you did."

"Everyone left me. The whole Pack was gone except for Derek and Lydia. What was I supposed to do, Stiles? How could I keep going without…"

"Derek and Lydia still needed you, Scott! You keep going for the ones who count on you, the ones who love you…"

"But what about the ones I love?" Scott's voice had been rising with his temper during their conversation, but now he went deathly quiet, throwing Stiles off-kilter.

"What do you mean, Scott? I know it was a nightmare, but we got through Allison's death, and Kira's, and Malia's. I don't want to sound insensitive, but you know how to deal with pain and grief." Stiles seemed genuinely confused as he answered.

Scott was unsure if he should be angry or amused by the confusion as the lightbulb in his own head clicked. "Yeah Stiles… _we_ got through their deaths. The only reason I kept going half the time was you." Stiles' face fell as the realization hit him, but he didn't interrupt. Scott took a deep breath and continued, "you remember Sophomore year, when I was first trying to learn control and figuring out who or what my anchor was?" Stiles nodded his head, memories of flying lacrosse balls and fists and claws running through his head. "I finally figured it out, maybe a year or two ago. I was wrong back then, when I thought my anchor was Allison." Another deep breath, "My anchor is you, Stiles. It always has been. The only reason it worked with Allison back then was because you were the one right there teaching me. And I…I couldn't…I couldn't keep going without my anchor."

Stiles' expression was an unreadable mix of emotions, all seemingly hitting him at the same time, "but Scott…you…you have to. You have to be stronger than that. In the real world, I can't always be there for you, no matter how much I want to be."

"Stiles, I don't know how to do this without you by my side. I can't be a werewolf, or an alpha, or anything unless you are there with me," Scott's voice became pleading, desperate. "Stiles, I need you."

Stiles took a moment to think about it, his trademark grin appearing as he reached a conclusion, "Scott, I thought I was your Yoda."

"What?" Scott asked, blankly.

"Your Yoda!" Stiles cried.

"Yeah, I guess…I mean, what does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh my gawwwwd, as soon as you return to life you have to watch the Star Wars movies. Ok? I mean it. You're not allowed to deal with Monroe until you've seen at least the original trilogy!"

"Ok, ok, if it's really that important to you, I'll watch them. I still don't understand what your point is."

"Well, Scotty, spoiler alert, but Yoda dies. Luke wasn't finished with his training but went off all half-cocked after his enemies before he was ready, which didn't end so well for him. Hmm, this analogy works even better than I thought. Anyway, by the time he returns, Yoda is dying, and says that he's taught Luke all he can. And then he's gone, and Luke has to go on without Yoda teaching him. It's maybe not ideal, but he does ok in the end. And I think you can too."

"But I don't want to…I don't want to go on without you," the brief lightheartedness vanished instantly.

"I don't want to either, Scott. I didn't want to leave you behind. That was the only thing I could think about when I was dying, was how much I didn't want to leave you and Derek and Lydia. Ever since I got here all I've been able to think about was how much I wanted to see you guys again, and talk to you, and be with you. But the universe isn't always that nice to us. So I want you to promise me, Scott. Promise me that, no matter what happens in the future, even if it means living without me, that you will keep living _for_ me. Will you promise me?"

Scott took several minutes to think over what Stiles was asking. Stiles could see the indecision etched into his features as the internal debate raged on. Finally, he reached his decision, extending his arm slowly out towards Stiles. "I…I promise. On one condition."

"What?" Stiles asked, glancing back and forth between Scott's hand and his eyes.

"I will make that promise to you, if you promise me that you will let me do whatever it takes to keep you by my side from now on." Scott stretched his hand out slightly, wiggling his fingers at Stiles as his own smirk took over his features.

Stiles hesitated slightly, something Scott did not expect. But after the brief moment, Stiles took Scott's hand in a firm grip, shaking it vigorously as he said, "you have yourself a deal, Scott."

"Good," Scott said, breaking the handshake and pulling Stiles into a fierce hug. _It's a good thing I now have demon strength,_ Stiles thought to himself as he returned the hug just as fiercely, _otherwise this would kill me all over again._ The two friends held on to each other until Derek reappeared.

"Hey," he said, calling out to them as he approached. Scott and Stiles broke away from one another, wiping a few drops of water from their faces as they turned towards their companion. "I think we should be going. I can't place it exactly, but I know we're being watch by something."

"Ok, where should we go?" Scott asked, turning from Derek to Stiles.

"Don't look at me," he said, standing up. "We need to find the rest of our pack, and sniffing them out is not one of my abilities."

Scott growled at him playfully as he stood, scenting the air in the most dignified manner he could muster. "Let's go this way," Scott said, pointing towards the nearest cavern leading away from the Suicide Pit.

"Did you catch a scent?" Derek asked, also scenting the air but not finding anything other than the sulfur, decay, and range of negative emotions.

"Yeah, Corey and Mason," Scott replied, quickly taking off up a hill as the others rushed to catch up. "Hey, is that anyone we know?" Scott asked, pointing at a figure rapidly moving away from them in the distance.

"I don't think so," Stiles replied, squinting.

"No, but I'm sure that's who was watching us," Derek said, biting back the growl in his throat.

"He's too far away to catch, unless you want me to use my demon powers to get him," Stiles said.

"No, let's not worry about it. Whoever he is, he's going in a different direction than we are, so let's go get our friends," Scott said with a shrug, taking off at a more leisurely pace down a path through the cave he had pointed to.

"You're the alpha," Stiles said, slinging an arm across Scott's shoulders and another across Derek's.

"Right," Derek, said happily, a small smile forming at the connection to his long-lost friends.

-o-

The figure darted around the rocks as quickly as he could, anxious to get away from the three men at the crest of the abyss without being seen. His task was to only watch from a distance, after all. If he was spotted before his Alpha wanted, it could prove disastrous. He transitioned to all fours, loping across the rugged terrain until he finally reached his destination. It was a section of wall like any other, unremarkable to the untrained eye. For him, it was the entrance to the Wolf Den, where he knew the Alpha and his lieutenants were waiting for him. "I have returned, sir," he said, slowing to a noble walk and bowing his head in respect towards his Alpha as he entered.

"Yes, yes, so I see," the Alpha replied. A flash of red from his eyes sent the beta wolf to his knees. "What news do you have for me?"

"It is Scott McCall, sir," the beta said, eyes glued to the floor.

"Scott McCall?!" the Alpha asked sharply.

The beta could feel the eyes of others in the room instantly turning to him as well. He now had their full attention and would need to tread carefully. "He has been recovered from the Suicide Pit."

"How?" the Alpha laced the one word with all the authority he could muster. It made his beta tremble before him.

"I…I do not know," he replied, sinking lower to the ground under the intense glare he could almost feel on his neck. "He was accompanied by two others, one appeared to be his same age and the other was perhaps a few years older. Both male, and both were part of his pack."

"Derek is the older one, surely," the Alpha's second lieutenant said, stepping from the shadows to stand at her Alpha's side.

"Perhaps," the Alpha said, clearly angered by the new developments. "But I have not heard that he had died. I will have to speak with our sentries at the Gates to this Underworld."

"And the other?" another beta wolf asked, bowing his head as he took a step forward.

The Alpha thought about it for a moment. "Stiles," he said, spitting the name out like a curse word, "I should have killed that stupid, insufferable brat when I had the chance. But no matter, this could work to our favor if he has freed Scott McCall from the demon's prison."

"Yes, sir," both betas said in unison.

"Tell me, what are they planning?" the Alpha said, turning to glare again at the one who had just arrived.

"I do not know for sure, sir, but I did overhear them talking about finding their other friends and putting their pack back together," the beta spoke nervously, unsure how their Alpha would take the news.

"Hmm," was the only response for some time, as he seemingly mulled over this new information. "This changes things," he said eventually. "You there, Jean-Paul," he said, snapping to the other beta that had spoken, "go and find my daughter. We will need all the help we can get on this. I don't care what it takes, but bring her here to me."

"Yes, my lord," the beta, Jean-Paul, replied, bowing once more before hurrying out of the Den. All remained quiet for a moment.

Finally, the first beta spoke up, "Would you like me to return to tracing Scott McCall?"

"No," the Alpha quickly replied, "the boy is stupid, but Stiles and Derek are not. They will notice if they are being followed. No, if Scott McCall is trying to find his pack, then all we have to do is get to one of them first. Then he will eventually have to come to us, on our terms."

"That is a wise plan, sir," the beta replied.

"Thank you, Severo, for that wonderful deduction," the Alpha said callously. "Now, go and find Scott's beta. Bring me Liam Dunbar."

"Yes, my lord, right away," Severo said, bowing like the other beta and hastily leaving the Den in search of his prey.

"The rest of you, go and round up any allies you think we might have. I want every advantage we can get. I will not be defeated by Scott McCall again," the Alpha spoke with anger and authority. The remainder of the room's occupants quickly left, leaving the Alpha and his second lieutenant alone in the Den. "What do you think, Victoria? After all this time, we can finally get our revenge on that boy."

"I think there can be no room for error this time. That boy destroyed my family, our family, and I will not allow that to happen again. If you are not strong enough to lead on this, I will not hesitate to take you out of the picture and do it myself," Victoria spoke with a calculated coolness, her eyes flashing at the Alpha.

"I can assure you, my dear, no one wants to see him fall more than I do. I will end him, for all eternity," the Alpha matched her tone, lacing his own with the hint of a growl.

"I believe you, Gerard. But do not underestimate him, not again," Victoria said, bowing ever so slightly under the weight of the Alpha's authority.

"Oh, I won't," Gerard said, "and with the strength of our new Argent Pack, there is no way Scott McCall and his renegade band of miscreants will be able to stop us."


	8. Joining the Circus

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi everyone! I suppose I should add the customary "I don't own the Teen Wolf characters" disclaimer, since I haven't mentioned it yet. Also, for what it's worth, I don't own the Dingling Brothers' Circus, or any other counterparts they may have. Other than that, I don't really have anything new to say except thank you to all of you wonderful people reading, reviewing, favoriting, following this story. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 8: Joining the Circus

The three friends trudged onwards in companionable silence, Stiles breaking in on occasion to make a joke or fill the others in on something he'd discovered in his time in the underworld. The terrain soon became much more challenging to traverse as they progressed, until they were forced to all-out climb a small mountain that overlooked the Suicide Pit from a distance. They decided to stop and catch their breath when they finally reached the top.

"It's kind of surreal, isn't it?" Derek said, sitting next to Stiles and looking down the side of the mountain to the plateau leading to the Pit they had just come from.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, turning to stare at him. Scott, on Stiles' other side, mirrored his actions.

"Just…all of this, this whole world that exists for the dead. It's hard to believe all of this is truly real," Derek answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Ahh, I understand," Stiles said with a small chuckle, "and this is really only the beginning. But yeah, its kind of overwhelming when you stop and think about it. In life, we get so caught up in what we're doing that we don't really think about what's going to happen next, when we're gone. And then you die and come here and realize that life was only the beginning and there's so much more to it than what you knew then. And so much of the stuff that was so important in life is meaningless now – money, power, fame, possessions. Here, all of that is gone. What matters here are friends, family, people. I sometimes wonder what I would have done differently, if I had known what I know now when I was still alive."

"We can't change the past," Scott said, meaningfully, gaining the others' attention. "If I could, there are lots of things I would have done differently. But I know I can't undo that. But I also know, now, that I can make up for it…" Scott paused as he made eye contact with Stiles, something passing between the two of them in silent understanding, "And I don't want to make the same mistakes as before. I want to be better. If I can't change the past, maybe I can at least change the future."

"That is indeed a wise and noble sentiment," a voice said from behind them, startling the three friends out of their reverie. They turned as one to face the newcomer, who had somehow managed to sneak up behind them unnoticed. Both Scott and Derek were unsure of him, immediately taking a defensive stance, but Stiles welcomed the stranger with excitement.

"Deaton!" he exclaimed, jumping up to close the distance between them and shake hands.

"Stiles, what are you talking about? That's not Deaton," Scott said, also jumping to his feet and quickly joining them. Derek moved at a more leisurely pace, connecting the dots as he did so.

"Yes, he is," Stiles replied, amused, "just a different one than the one you know. Scott, Derek, allow me to introduce you to George Deaton, grandfather of Alan Deaton and my Limbo mentor."

"George Deaton?" Scott asked, looking more and more confused by the second. Derek, in contrast, shook hands with the man warmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Derek said, "Stiles told me that you were once the emissary for my family's pack. I want to thank you for guiding my ancestors."

"Oh? You are the Hale that Stiles told me about? Yes, now that I take a good look at you, I can see the family resemblance. Well, it's truly a pleasure to meet you as well," George replied, before turning back to Stiles. "I take it that means the stuff we talked about worked?"

"Oh, yes," Stiles said with a wide grin, "it worked beautifully." Seeing the confusion now permanently etched on Scott's face, he elaborated, "George is the one who taught me about Limbo, but he also taught me a lot about the Druid arts, including the stuff that made it possible for Derek to come here."

"Oh," Scott said, seeing the man in a new light. He took a moment to process and then also shook his hand, relaxing and smiling, "thank you, Mr. Deaton, for helping us."

"No trouble at all," George replied, waving it off, "after 60 years in this place, I'm just glad to have something worthwhile to do. And helping the descendants of my friends and pack seems like a good cause to me."

"There isn't much left of the Hale pack," Derek said, expression clouding over at the thought.

"So I've heard," George said, "which is all the more reason to help with what you are planning to do. Although, Stiles, I'm sorry to say I haven't been able to locate any more for you."

"Any more what?" Scott asked.

"Any more, um…members of our pack," Stiles interjected, cutting George off before he could answer and casting a sideways glance at the older man. He looked nervous as he did so, and Derek could instantly tell that he was hiding something, again, but he chose not to press the issue for now. A small group of people wandered out of a tunnel nearby and into their cavern, giggling amongst themselves. They seemed harmless, but, as Stiles kept reminding them, not everything in this world was as it seems, so he didn't want to risk being overheard.

"We should probably get back to our search," Derek said, turning his attention back to his friends.

"Will you join us?" Scott asked George, "we could use your help if you know this place and what we're looking for."

"I'm afraid I cannot," George answered, "I am on my own quest of sorts at the moment. But I expect our paths will inevitably cross at some point. I look forward to seeing you again, and I will continue keeping my eyes open for any more…members of your pack." This last part was directed specifically at Stiles, who nodded solemnly in agreement.

"Thank you, George," Stiles said, "it was great running into you. Good luck!" They all shook hands once more, said a quick good-bye, and parted ways – George heading down the tunnel that the group of people had come from and Stiles, Derek, and Scott continuing into the cavern leading away from the mountain side.

As they began their descent, Derek pulled Stiles aside slightly and whispered to him, hoping Scott would be too focused on keeping his footing to notice. "You're hiding something, Stiles." It wasn't a question, and they both knew it.

Stiles sheepishly glanced at Derek before turning to watch his own footing, the terrain steepening as they went. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Why? What is it? You know you can trust me," Derek tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but wasn't very successful.

"Of course I trust you, Derek," Stiles whispered, placing a hand on the older man's shoulder, "I trust you with my life…or…afterlife, I guess? You know what I mean. I just, there's something I need to keep to myself for now. Can you find it in you to trust _me_ enough that I have a good reason for keeping it secret?"

"I guess, yeah," Derek said, grudgingly, "if you promise that this isn't something I will regret later on.

"Well, Derek, I'm not sure I can do that either, if we're being completely honest."

"Stiles," Derek groaned, a low growl escaping under his breath as well.

"How far away are Mason and Corey?" Stiles called out to Scott as they made their way down a narrow path descending the other side of the mountain, trying to change the topic.

"Not too far," Scott replied, "the scent is much stronger on this side." Derek scented the air once more, realizing that he too could now smell their missing packmates, though it was still rather faint.

"This conversation isn't over," Derek whispered to Stiles. The younger man simply nodded his head in agreement solemnly. "There are a lot of people down there," Derek added, surveying the valley below them. At the base of the mountain the ground levelled out, extending in all directions for miles. They were still too far away to make out many details other than the constant movement, but as they got closer it became obvious that the tiny, moving dots were hundreds, maybe even thousands, of people. Everyone seemed to be heading to the absolute center of the valley, where a neon red and yellow structure stood.

"What is that?" Scott asked once they had reached the valley floor, pointing at the structure rising above the crowds in the distance. It seemed to be the center of everyone's attention, people flocking to it in groups of twos and threes, laughing and joking as they did so.

"It kind of looks like a tent," Stiles replied, squinting at the thing in front of them, "like the ones they have at the fair every year."

"Whatever it is, its attracting a lot of attention," Derek observed, "we're going to have a rough time getting inside."

"Yeah, there's no way that thing can hold all these people," Scott said, being jostled about as they joined the throngs of people all heading to the tent in the center of the valley. Soon the trio was swallowed up by the mass of people and noise pressing in on all directions, and they had all they could manage just to remain together. "I'm pretty sure Corey and Mason are inside," Scott called out to the others as they began to be pushed closer.

The structure turned out to indeed be an old, slightly tattered tent. The red and yellow striped pattern completely circled the entire thing, providing a stark contrast against the gray and black stone found everywhere else in the giant cavern. The tent seemed to be attracting the people to it like moths to a flame, and as they neared the entrance they could hear old carnival music and laughter coming from inside. The three friends finally managed to squeeze their way through the narrow entrance before stopping dead in their tracks at the sight before them.

Limbo world was definitely not always what it appeared to be. From the outside, the tent appeared to be rather small, at best the size of a two-story house. From the inside, it was another world entirely. Grandstands stretched on in both directions, encircling the entire edge of the tent's interior with thousands upon thousands of seats, most of which were occupied by the people flocking inside. The grandstands surrounded what could only be an old-time three ring circus with a large, open area in the middle where various animals and acrobats were performing for the captivated audience. A small stage had been erected in the very center of the tent around a wooden pole as thick as a redwood tree that stretched to the roof of the tent hundreds of feet above them.

The three friends were mesmerized by the sights before them, but quickly snapped out of their reverie by the crowd of people pushing them forward into the grandstands. "Are you sure Corey and Mason are here?" Stiles asked, reassessing their surroundings.

"Yeah, I'm positive they're here somewhere. But there are so many people, I can't tell where specifically," Scott replied, turning his head in all directions with his nose lifted into the air.

"Come on," Derek said, grabbing them both by the arm and dragging them off into the stands. "Let's grab some seats up top so we can be out of the way and figure out what's going on."

"Good idea," Stiles said, allowing himself to be whisked up to the very top row of seats, "I've always wanted to go to the circus." They found a spot crammed into a corner that was partially blocked by a mezzanine balcony but that afforded them a little bit of privacy from the throng of people here to presumably watch the show. Before they could discuss any further plans of action, the lights in the tent dimmed and a man wearing a bright red trench coat and pants with a gold vest underneath and matching red hat stepped out onto the stage in the center of the tent and grabbed a microphone that looked at least a century old.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" the man began with overdramatic flair, "welcome one and all to the world-famous, stupendous, death-defying Dingling Brothers' Circus!" The crowd thunderously applauded as the three friends exchanged curious and confused glances with one another.

"The Dingling Brothers' Circus?" Scott asked. Stiles just shrugged and returned his attention to the announcer.

"Here in this very arena, you will see wonders beyond anything you could possibly imagine. We have gathered the greatest performers and most marvelous creatures available here in the afterlife for what can only be called: the Greatest Show in Limbo!" The crowd erupted into applause and cheers once again. Even Stiles and Scott joined in, though not quite as enthusiastically as the rest of the people.

Derek alone seemed to be immune, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring around at the audience. "Don't forget that we are here to find our friends, not enjoy some weird freak show."

"Hey, don't be such a sourwolf. There's no reason why we can't do both at the same time," Stiles replied, playfully punching the man in the arm. Derek simply rolled his eyes before returning to scanning the audience for familiar faces.

"Before we bring you tonight's main attractions, please welcome the clown troupe led by our very own Master Clown himself, Frosty Little!" The crowd went wild, cheering on as a tiny car veered into the arena being driven by a clown in a red checkered coat.

"Argh, I hate clowns!" Derek exclaimed, turning away from the action happening in the center of the arena.

"Really? How come?" Stiles asked, a glint in his eye suggesting he wasn't asking just out of curiosity.

"Bad birthday party experience when I was 8," Derek said gruffly before catching the look Stiles was giving him, "and if you ever repeat that to anyone or try to use it against me, I _will_ rip your throat out…with my teeth…regardless of whether you are already dead or not." Stiles and Scott both busted out laughing as Derek tried, unsuccessfully, to remain completely stoic next to them.

The rest of the show passed by uneventfully. The audience laughed at the clowns' antics, were captivated by the acrobats flying through the air, awed by the trained elephants, lions, and tigers performing with their caretakers, and mesmerized by the troupe of daredevils juggling chainsaws, swallowing swords, escaping straightjackets, and contorting their bodies into weird positions. At first, Derek was confused by why the whole circus seemed to be so monumentally popular with the people of Limbo, but eventually he decided it must simply be because there didn't seem to be very many other forms of entertainment in the afterlife. He was forced to reconsider when time came for the final act.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer from before returned once again to his podium, "it brings me great pleasure to introduce you to our final act of the evening. But I must warn you, what you are about to witness cannot be explained by the wonders of science or learned by even the greatest of students. What you are about to see are some of the most terrifying creatures to have ever walked the planet above, creatures that are the stuff nightmares are made of. I must ask you to remain in your seats, where it is safe, and cover the eyes of your children while the Dingling Brothers' Circus proudly presents to you: the Greatest Freaks in Limbo!" Instead of cheering and applauding, the crowd of onlookers gasped, oohing and aahing as the stage began to expand outwards, leaving an opening in its center. They could hear roars and screams coming from inside and below the stage as a series of what looked like giant boxes covered in brightly colored cloth slowly ascended upwards through the gap in the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Behold, the amazing wolf-woman!" The announcer's voice was drowned out by the chorus of screams, cheers, and applause from different members of the audience as the first cloth was swept away to reveal a giant steel cage containing a female werewolf in full beta-shift. Derek and Scott both clenched their fists in anger as they realized the woman was clearly being held prisoner against her will, heavy chains stretching from her wrists and ankles to keep her in place. Derek sniffed and noticed there was also an electric current running through the metal, keeping her shifted for everyone to see. The woman was scantily clad, apparently to reveal as much of her body as possible so the audience would know they weren't being deceived, if the announcer was to be believed. "It is a horrendous sight to behold, but I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, you are safe from this beast. I can also assure you that this is no trick, no sleight of hand nor smoke and mirrors. The wolf-woman is a real creature, one who once roamed the earth in disguise as an ordinary person like you or me. But, below the surface, her true nature is revealed. See her fangs, her claws, her glowing yellow eyes, and all completely real! But she is only the beginning!"

Derek, Scott, and Stiles all exchanged glances once more, leaning forward in their seats to get closer looks. None of them liked the sound of what the announcer was suggesting.

"Our next beast is not so much a freak as he is a complete monstrosity. Behold, we give you, the terrifying…Man-Eating Master of Mayhem!" The cloth was swiped away to reveal a very frightened looking teenage boy dressed only in a pair of underwear. Like the werewolf, he was chained up with electricity coursing through the metal, forcing him to shift and revealing several rows of razor sharp teeth and glowing white eyes.

"A wendigo," Derek said under his breath, jaw clenched tightly in anger at the abuse going on below.

"Wait, I recognize him," Scott said. The others tuned out the announcer's description to focus in on Scott instead.

"Really? Who is he?" Stiles asked, nudging his friend in the shoulder.

"Sean…I think that's what his name was. He was killed during the Deadpool. Actually, he's the primary reason I ended up biting Liam."

"What? What do you mean?" this time it was Derek asking the questions.

"It was after I hurt Liam at lacrosse practice and we took him to the hospital. Sean took Liam up on the roof to eat him I guess, and I was trying to stop him, but Liam got knocked over the edge and I was trying to keep him from falling and also holding off Sean's attack. I ended up biting Liam's arm in order to drag him to safety, and by the time I got him back on the roof, that assassin without a mouth had killed Sean."

"So…it sounds to me like he deserves to be punished here in the afterlife," Stiles said, looking back down at the spectacle before them with mild interest.

"No one deserves to be treated like that," Scott replied, also turning to watch as the announcer was now tormenting the young man with a long pole of some kind.

"Yeah, I suppose your right," Stiles sighed. "What's he saying? It's too far away for me to hear."

"He's crying, and he's begging the announcer to make the pain stop," Derek said, mirroring Stiles' sigh.

"Oh," was all Stiles could say in response before he was interrupted by the announcer once more.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, we have reached the final of our freaks for the evening. This one is a new acquisition by the circus, a rarity unseen by any before today, an oddity I myself have never come across before in my 120 years as master of ceremonies for this circus and its counterpart in the world we came from. This creature is an abomination unlike any other, so don't let his demeanor fool you into believing he is an innocent boy. Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, the Dingling Brothers' circus proudly presents to you: the terrifying, the mesmerizing, Invisible Boy!"

The cloth was pulled away and the three friends could only stare on in agony at the sight before them. This cage contained two people. Strung up in the center with chains like the others was none other than Corey. Also like the others, he was clad in only his underwear. The skin on his entire body had turned beet red from what appeared to be a combination of pain and embarrassment. Electricity coursed through the shackles holding him in place, but at a much lower voltage than the other captives. Chained to the floor of the cage directly in front of Corey was Mason. The two were positioned so they would be forced to watch one another without obstructing the view of the audience on the scene as a whole. Mason's back was to their packmates above, so it was impossible for their friends to see what condition he was in apart from the chains binding him to the floor and his similar lack of clothing.

"Now, you all may be wondering why we have two beings in this cage," the announcer's voice tore Derek, Scott, and Stiles back to the reality of what was happening. "Well, not only is this creature an abomination against nature, he is also an abomination against society. The boy in the cage with him is his lover, an atrocious crime on so many levels." The crowd began to boo and hiss, mocking the boys caged up below them. Corey began to cry, his whole body shaking in rhythm with his sobs while Mason leaned forward towards his boyfriend as far as he could, presumably to comfort him, though the din from the audience made it impossible for even the werewolves to hear.

"But don't fret, my dear friends," the announcer continued, "none of these abominations can get out of their bindings. Now watch, and be amazed as our final attraction is able to turn himself completely invisible!" Derek could almost feel the shift as the electrical current coursing through Corey's shackles was increased. He yelped in pain before ever-so-slowly fading out of sight before their eyes, the only indication he was still there being the shackles still hanging tightly in mid-air. The crowd went wild at the sight, jumping to their feet, cheering, applauding, and carrying on.

"Well, I've seen enough," Stiles said, standing as well, but ducking out of sight behind the mezzanine, "cover me."

"Stiles, what are you doing?" Scott hissed, nevertheless standing as well alongside Derek to hide the view behind the mezzanine from the audience.

"Simple," he replied, his voice deepening with each word, indicating his shift into demon form, "I'm going to go get our friends. Climb up on top of this contraption once I have everyone's attention down there and I'll swing back by and pick you up on our way out."

"Whoa, Stiles, hold on," Derek tried, but it was too late, Demon-Stiles was already taking off into the air, circling the giant wooden pole in the center of the tent to alert the audience to his presence before quickly descending to the stage. The sudden and dramatic appearance of the demon changed everything. Pandemonium broke out as various people began screaming and running for the entrance while others remained rigidly frozen in their seats. "Come on!" Derek called to Scott, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him up on the mezzanine in order to escape being trampled by the crowd.

"What are you doing here?" the announcer shouted at the demon, unaware he was still holding the microphone and amplifying his voice for everyone to hear. "I thought I had a deal with Dekak! You can't just fly in here and interrupt my show!"

"I have business with these two," Demon-Stiles said, pointing at Corey and Mason.

"No way!" the announcer shouted, running to place himself between the demon and the cage. "I just purchased them! There's no way I'm letting you waltz in here and take what is rightfully mine!"

"That's ok, I wasn't asking for your permission," Demon-Stiles replied, swiping the man aside like a rag doll and grabbing the cage, ripping it out of its frame and tossing it aside. "I'm going to get you out of here, guys, please don't freak out on me."

The audience was now in full panic mode, stampeding towards the narrow exit in one chaotic mass of screams and cries and shoves. Derek and Scott seemed to be the only ones still watching the stage, which was for the best since Stiles had stopped acting in demonic fashion in his attempts to reassure their terrified friends. He made short work of the chains binding both boys, effectively freeing them and grabbing one in each arm. He was just about to take off into the air again when he seemed to second-guess himself.

"Come on, come on, come on, what are you doing Stiles?" Derek cried out nervously as he watched the scene below him unfold. Scott nervously chewed his bottom lip as he followed the demon's movements.

"Don't move," Stiles commanded the two boys as he let go of them. They obeyed without question as he quickly ran over and made short work of destroying the other two cages, releasing Sean and the female werewolf from their captivity. The two quickly ducked out of sight into the crowd as the announcer began to stir, shaking his head slightly as he pulled himself off the ground. "Now, let's get out of here. Hold on tight!" Demon-Stiles said to Corey and Mason, grabbing one in each arm once more and taking off into the air with a mighty thrust from his wings.

Stiles flew directly towards Derek and Scott, shouting "grab on!" as he approached. They both did so without a second thought, Derek grabbing hold of Mason's free arm and Scott clutching one of Corey's legs. Stiles didn't stop, allowing his momentum to catapult the odd group straight through the wall of the tent behind the grandstands.

"Scott? Derek? What's happening?" Mason called out, his voice thick with fear. Corey's whole body was still shaking, the boy clearly being too traumatized to form words.

"Don't worry, everything's going to be fine," Scott shouted out in reply, "I promise you're safe now."

"We'll explain the rest when we land," Derek added, cutting them off.

"Which will need to be soon," Demon-Stiles said with a grunt, "I can't keep all five of us in the air for very long. Corey, it'd be really great if you could turn us all invisible so no one can follow us."

Corey didn't audibly respond. For a moment, it didn't seem like he even comprehended what was being said or going on around him. But eventually it must have gotten through, as the group became translucent, the grey light of the cavern shifting to a dull green as they literally disappeared into thin air.

"Alright, anyone got a bright idea?" Demon-Stiles asked, descending slightly under the strain of keeping all of them in the air.

"To your left, there's an outcropping about halfway up the cave wall," Derek called out to him. Stiles veered in that direction without a word, making a beeline for the opening. He didn't bother with a proper landing, instead crashing all five of them to the floor of the outcropping, obscured from view by those on the ground below as they all blinked back into the visible spectrum.

"Ohhh, that was a nightmare," Demon-Stiles groaned, rolling over onto his back and pushing himself up against the wall. "I don't think my wings will ever be the same."

"What is going on!" Mason cried out, eyes darting back and forth between Derek, Scott, and the demon as he hovered over his boyfriend. Corey wasn't paying attention; instead, he had curled himself into a tight ball at Mason's side the moment they landed, his whole body still shaking with sobs. "And who, or what, are you?" Mason added, focusing his full attention on the demon and shifting slightly to place himself between Corey and the creature.

"What, you don't recognize me?" Demon-Stiles asked cheekily, before sighing dramatically and shifting back into human form. "How about now?"

"Stiles?" Mason whispered. The look on his face suggested he was either running every scenario imaginable in his head to figure this out or his mind was simply shutting down altogether.

"Of course!" Stiles replied, "did you miss me?" Mason could only stare on in wonder, dumbfounded by what he was seeing. "Oh, and…to make it official," Stiles continued, giving a meaningful, mischievous glance towards Derek and Scott as he said it, "welcome to Hell!"


	9. Reinforcements

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi everyone! Soooo…have you ever gone on vacation and taken your computer and notes with you with the intention of being really productive on a story you were writing, only to get really distracted by everything else going on and not accomplishing a single thing? Yeah, me neither. This chapter is totally on schedule with the rest of the story…Hehe.

Chapter 9: Reinforcements

"Stiles!" Derek groaned while Scott literally facepalmed next to him. Mason turned his attention to them, trying to make sense of what was going on around him.

"You guys…knew about this? How is this possible? What is even happening right now?" Mason's voice rose with his questions and frustration, Corey's tight hold on his arm seemingly the only thing keeping him grounded to his spot in the middle of their mini-cave.

"It's a long story…" Derek began, before being cut off by Stiles.

"We're all dead, except Derek, and trapped in the Underworld. I overpowered a demon and now possess it's body and can transform into him when I want to, learned how to do some pretty amazing Druid rituals from Deaton's grandfather, contacted Derek and Lydia with the demon's powers and used the Druid rituals to bring Derek's spirit here, to Limbo, where we rescued Scott from the Suicide Pit, and now we are trying to find all of our friends and bring them back to life, starting with you two," Stiles said in one breath, words tumbling out as fast as possible.

"Ok, it's not a long story, just a confusing one," Derek said, rolling his eyes at his friend. Mason simply stared on in shock, either too confused by what was just said or too unable to believe it all could be true. Corey had gone still while Stiles rambled, his sobs stopping while he clearly listened to what was said, but he still refused to look up or uncurl himself from his spot next to Mason.

"The point is," Scott interrupted, trying to put his friends at ease, "we're on a mission to rescue all of our friends and make it so we can all go back home."

"What's the point?" Corey said, voice muffled by his awkward position. No one answered him, so he continued, still speaking into Mason's side, "We're all dead. If we go back, we're just going to be killed again. The world hates us."

"Corey, you can't honestly want to stay here," Stiles replied, "not after what we just saw happening to you."

Corey stiffened once more, angry at being reminded of what had happened to him. He finally sat up straight, pressing himself to Mason's side as he made eye contact with Stiles, "no, I want to get as far away from that circus as possible. But if we go back to the real world, it'll be no different than before. We'll all get tortured, and separated, and killed. At least down here we can all stay together. Isn't that better?"

"Corey," Scott said, expression dripping with sympathy and understanding, "I get it. But things will be different this time. We're going to have _all_ of our pack together this time, all of us in one place. And most of our enemies are down here too, so it's really just Monroe we have to face when we get back. We can change how the world views us, we can make things better, together."

"And besides," Stiles added, seeing the doubtful expression on Corey's face, "there's no guarantee we could all stay together down here anyway. This is a wild and crazy world, we could easily get separated or hurt. And, it's not the final stop on the Afterlife journey. We would all eventually move on at some point too."

"What do you mean?" Mason asked, eyes lighting up with his natural inquisitiveness.

Stiles shrugged, "no one really knows for sure, only that nobody stays in Limbo forever. You could be here a few days, or a few centuries, but eventually you do leave and go somewhere else. Since no one knows for sure, there's no guarantee that we will all end up being together, even if we all decide to stay here."

"And," Derek added, somewhat surprisingly, "we're not all actually here yet. I'm technically still alive and have to return to the living world soon. Lydia is still up there too."

"But…I don't want to go back," Corey whispered, turning away as he leaned his head against Mason's shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around his anchor. Mason returned the embrace, at a loss for how to respond.

"You don't want to have the chance to live again?" Scott asked, clearly taken aback by Corey's words.

"No," the other responded dully, shaking his head as he did so.

"Why not?" Stiles asked, inching forward to join the others in the middle of the outcropping.

"It didn't work out so well when I came back to life after dying the first time. My life was nothing but hell the first time," Corey said simply, tightening his grip on his boyfriend. The others winced at the statement. "My own parents didn't even realize I had died or care that I had been missing. I was always invisible, even before I could actually become invisible. My _second_ chance at life was barely any better. I didn't have any real friends, nobody cared about me. You guys are my friends now, but you were pretty mean to me too for awhile. And I got hurt a lot, worse than what my dad ever did to me. And then I died a second time. Why would I want to go back and do it a third time?"

They all sat in silence for a few moments, no one knowing how to answer Corey's question. He turned to face each of them, briefly making eye contact, before burying his face into Mason's shoulder once more.

"Cor…I think we should do it," Mason whispered softly, stroking the other's hair.

Corey stiffened, his whole body radiating tension. "What? What do you mean?" he asked, slowly.

"I think that you and I should return to the world of the living," Mason replied, continuing to run his fingers through Corey's hair in an effort to soothe him.

"Why?" was the only response he got instead.

"Because, Cor," Mason said, taking hold of his boyfriend's shoulders gently and raising him up so they could look at one another properly, "I want to show you, to prove to you, that we can have a happy life together. That was taken away from us by everything else that happened, but I know it can still be a reality. I want to live with you, grow old with you, maybe get married and raise a family. I want the chance to show you that life isn't always bad. And I want to show you how much you are loved. Please. Will you let me do that?"

Corey's tears began to fall once more, quietly, as he stared longingly at the man who meant the world to him. "Please, Mase, don't make me go back. I don't want to be beat up and hurt all the time or separated from you again. Please, let's just stay here instead."

Mason began to silently shed tears as well, watching the pain and confusion in his boyfriend's face and wanting nothing more than to make it all go away, "Corey, what kind of life would we have here? This place hasn't been any better to us than the real world was." Corey flinched at that, but Mason continued anyway, "If we go back, we have a chance to be happy. If we stay here, we know it'll just be more of the same. I think we should take a chance on happiness."

"Even if things turn out worse than they were before?" Corey asked, skeptically.

"Yes," Mason said, a note of resolution in his voice. "At least then we'll know we tried, and we'll know we can always find each other here again."

"What if we don't? What if we get separated and never see each other again?"

"That won't happen," Mason's voice rang with finality as he spoke, "it's my one and only superpower, remember? I can always find you. And I will."

Corey gave a small smile at that, wiping some of the tears from his eyes as he turned his attention back to the others. "So, um…how does this work exactly? Are we all going to go together, or…" he trailed off, uncertain of what to ask.

Scott quickly answered, "I think you guys should come with us for now. We could use your help while we look for the others."

"I disagree," Stiles interjected, causing all eyes to turn to him. "Lydia is in the real world, all alone, looking after Derek's body and the ritual circles that will bring everyone back. We did what we could to defend her position from hunters, but the reality is that she could be discovered by someone with a strong enough will. If they capture her, or even just disturb what we set up, then that's game over for everyone, nobody goes back to life, Derek's spirit gets permanently separated from his body, and Monroe wins. I hate to put pressure on you guys, but Lydia needs reinforcements, and right now you are the only ones we can send back."

"What about you three?" Mason asked, trying to assess all the variables.

"We have to stay here," Stiles replied, "Derek is the bridge between the two worlds, since he is still alive but his spirit is here. Scott is the Alpha, which means he stands a much better chance of finding our Pack than anyone else would. And I'm the only one who can perform the Druid rituals that send everyone back. Plus, I'm a demon, so I'm pack bodyguard at the moment."

"We can send you together," Scott added quickly, seeing the hesitation in his friends' faces, "and then you two will be together in the real world, along with Lydia. And we'll be sending more of our friends back as we find them, until we are all eventually there together."

"You'll be safe," Derek continued, "Lydia and Stiles built a barrier that will keep people away and warn you if they do end up coming through. No one will know you are alive, so you will be able to hide with your camouflaging abilities and no one will even know they should be looking for you."

"And it's only for a few days at most," Stiles finished, "because we have a time limit on how long Derek can stay here."

"Ok," Mason said, turning to look at Corey as he did so. They shared a look, understanding passing between them before Mason continued. "We will go back, help Lydia with what she is doing, and wait for everyone else to join us."

"But that doesn't mean we are going to go with you to fight Monroe," Corey said.

"But you guys are part of the Pack," Scott replied, uncertain.

"And we still will be, if you'll let us," Mason said, "just, maybe not fighting members. It's been hard enough on both of us already."

"We can figure that part out later," Derek interjected before Scott could argue further. "For now, we need to get you guys up top and then we need to get moving again."

"Agreed," Stiles said, springing into action. He quickly spilled some sort of dust out of a bag he'd been keeping in his pocket onto the ground, stooping to draw some runes in the mixture of dust and dirt before anyone could say anything. He then drew a large circle around the runes before standing back up and clapping the dirt and dust off of his hands and clothes. "There, we're all set."

"What do we need to do?" Mason asked, eyeing the circle apprehensively as Corey's grip on his hand tightened.

"You just stand in the circle and think about the real world. Actually, think about the Nemeton specifically, because that's where Lydia is and where the runes that match these ones are. I'll perform the ritual and you'll disappear from this world and reappear in that one, simple as that."

"Will it hurt?" Corey asked, trying to hide the quiver in his lower lip unsuccessfully.

"I honestly don't know," Stiles answered, understandingly. "If it does, it will all be over very quickly. That much I do know."

Corey nodded grimly, then stepped forward into the circle, pulling Mason along to stand beside him, hands still clasped tightly. Stiles began whispering under his breath, some sort of incantation, as he made various gestures with his hands. They could feel a soft breeze begin to pick up in the cave, the sound adding an eerie vibe to the already dreadful place.

Scott came forward, clasping each of them on the shoulder. "I'm proud of you both," he said, "thank you for being willing to do this. I promise I'm going to do everything I can to make this new life better for both of you." They each nodded, unsure how to respond but appreciative of the words. He quickly stepped back as the wind picked up speed, now blowing directly around the circle Stiles had drawn.

"Good luck you two," Derek called out from his spot a few steps away, "take care of each other, and Lydia…and me." They nodded again, grimacing slightly.

Finally, Stiles finished his incantation, shouting to the two friends in the circle over the force of the wind, unable to be heard by Derek or Scott. "You two are in charge now. I know you still have doubts, and I know you don't want to fight anymore. But I want you to promise me that, whatever happens, you will do what you can to protect not only each other, but the Pack as a whole."

"What are you trying to say, Stiles?" Mason called back, seeing through the pretense.

"Look, I can't explain right now. Just know that, whatever happens, I'm doing everything in my power down here to make sure our Pack is as safe and put together as possible. If I have to make a few sacrifices along the way, so be it." 

"Stiles, you're not making any sense," Corey yelled.

"I know, I know…it will make sense later on. Just, promise me, when that time comes, you will be there for everyone else. And not be too mad at me for whatever happens."

The two boyfriends looked at each other nervously, then turned and nodded in agreement.

"Good, thank you. Say hello to Lydia for me!" Stiles called out.

"Wait!" Corey shouted, suddenly turning a brilliant shade of red again, "are we going to still be in just our underwear when we come back to life?"

"I have no idea!" Stiles shouted back, eyes glinting mischievously as the two friends began to hover above the ground. "Bye!" he said, waving as they shot upwards into the air, through the rock ceiling, and out of sight. The rushing, howling wind suddenly stopped, the circle drawn in the ground completely lost among the scattered dirt and debris. Everything was quiet once more, as though nothing had happened.

"Did it work?" Scott asked, nervously stepping forward towards where the circle had been?

"Did what work?" A voice asked from the cave entrance. The three friends froze in fear before each turning slowly to look at the new arrival.

-o-

Life had become rather dull and uneventful for Lydia Martin. She tended to her fire, making sure it didn't go out so she would be warm at night and able to cook the food she and Derek had collected for her meals during the day. She tended to Derek as well, pouring water and soup down his throat to keep his body healthy while mending the occasional wound that would spontaneously appear. Thankfully, nothing nearly as serious as that first injury had appeared, instead only minor scrapes, cuts, and the like that his werewolf abilities had quickly healed. The magic she and Stiles had used to form the barrier around the Nemeton seemed to be working flawlessly; there was not a human or supernatural creature in sight. It even interfered with the radio's ability to receive broadcasts, with only three stations still coming in.

If she was being honest with herself, Lydia was plain bored. After years of fighting, researching, and scraping to survive while getting straight A's in class and maintaining the perfect image of popularity, she had no idea what to do with so much free time and no pressing demands. She had decided to begin wandering around the clearing aimlessly, thinking about the various friends represented by the memorials and runes she and Derek had set up almost two days earlier. As she did, she felt herself being pulled, drawn to the runes marking the spots for Mason and Corey. _Something is happening,_ she though to herself, reaching out tentatively into the air and feeling the static electricity there. _I wonder what…_

Before she could finish the thought, two bolts of lightning struck the ground mere inches from where she stood. Lydia jumped back, screaming as she did. The two boys mirrored her, jumping away from the sound and yelling as all three fell to the ground.

"Lydia?" Mason called out.

"Mason!" Lydia replied, eyes darting around nervously.

"Oww, my ears," Corey said.

"Corey!" Mason and Lydia called in unison.

"Stop yelling!" he yelled back.

"You're alive!" Lydia yelled, grinning as she skidded over to Corey, Mason doing the same.

"Yeah, I guess we are," Mason said, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend.

"It worked, it really worked!" Lydia said, drawing them both into a tight hug. "I can't believe it worked." She was now laughing while tears fell down her face, but she didn't care. "I'm so happy you guys are back!"

"We are happy to be back," Mason said, pulling away slightly to sit properly and watch his boyfriend for a reaction. He noticed, happily, that they were now both dressed in the clothes they'd each been wearing when they died. How that worked, he didn't know, he was just happy they weren't showing up in front of Lydia wearing nothing but underwear, or worse.

"Yeah, I guess we are," Corey said, slightly more subdued, but smiling slightly nonetheless. Lydia finally let go of them both, shifting to sit cross-legged in front of them.

"Ok, so spill. You guys have to tell me everything that happened down there," she said.

"Aww, we just got back, can't we at least eat first?" Mason replied, groaning as he felt, and heard, his stomach beginning to rumble.

"Yeah, I haven't eaten in…how long has it been since I died?" Corey said.

Lydia pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Hmph, fine then. How about you tell me about the Underworld while I make dinner?"

"That'll be great!" Mason said.

Just then, the air went suddenly still, all birdsong and insect noise going silent. A faint rippling could be seen around the barrier to their left. Lydia's hand flung to her mouth as she scrambled to get up off the ground, dragging the boys with her. "Quick, we have to hide!" she whispered.

"What's going on?" Mason whispered back, struggling to keep up with her.

"Someone's coming through the barrier," she stopped, turning her head in every direction around the clearing, deciding what would be their best option. After just a few seconds, her eyes focused on the paler of her friends. "Corey, can you make us invisible?"

"Yeah, I think so," he replied, quickly grabbing onto each of them and phasing them out of sight.

"We need to go and hide Derek's body as well," Lydia whispered, pointing at the prone man stretched out on top of the Nemeton.

"Alright, but stay close to me. It gets harder to stay invisible the more people we add," Corey said. The three friends slowly crept over to the body surrounded by runes and mountain ash in the center of the clearing. When they got close enough, Lydia grabbed the man's hand and Corey grunted slightly as he was added to their unseen bunch. The three friends turned back to face the section of barrier that had been rippling. The air there now looked like a dense fog.

"I thought Stiles said no one could get in here?" Mason whispered towards Lydia, so quietly they could barely hear.

"That's the general idea," Lydia whispered back, "the barrier makes it so anyone approaching this area suddenly thinks of other things they need to do so they will go away. But, if someone is determined enough to push through, then they will still be able to, they just have to concentrate."

"It looks like this person is determined enough," Mason replied.

"Does anyone know about this place?" Corey asked.

"Well, lots of people know about the Nemeton, although only a few people actually know how to find it. Nobody else knows that we are here though, Derek and I were very careful when we came here."

"Who do you think it is?" Corey asked, shaking slightly.

"I don't…" Lydia began, but was cut off by a voice calling out from the trees.

"Hello? Is anybody there? Please tell me I'm not going crazy and hearing voices," the voice said.

"Wait is that…" Corey began.

"No, it couldn't be," Mason interrupted.

"Yes, it is!" Lydia said, "I'm not sure I can believe it, but it has to be!"

"Hello?" the voice called again, uncertainly, as a figure stepped through the fog and into the clearing.


	10. Family Reunion

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Soo, I apologize for going so long without writing. I moved, so everything was packed up for awhile, and things have just been chaotic in general. I hope this will make it up to you! As always, reviews/thoughts/etc. are greatly appreciated.

Chapter 10: Family Reunion

"Melissa?" Lydia asked, letting go of Derek and Corey and phasing back into visibility.

"Whoa," Melissa replied, "where'd you come from?"

"It is you," Mason said happily as he and Corey also became visible.

"Corey!" Melissa yelled, wiping the smile off his face in an instant, "what have I told you about being invisible and scaring me?"

"Sorry, Mrs. McCall," he said, guiltily looking at the ground in front of him, "we didn't know it was you."

"Well…ok then," she said, walking towards them before stopping in her tracks. She looked back and forth between Mason and Corey, all the color draining from her face. She gasped, her hand going to her mouth, "How…you both…you're dead!" The boys stared at one another, unsure of what to say as Lydia ran to Melissa, who looked like she was about to faint.

"Melissa, why don't you come sit by the fire with us and we'll explain everything, ok?" she said gently, taking ahold of her arm and dragging her over without waiting for a reply.

"Yeah…that sounds…gooooo" Melissa McCall wavered, taking in the rest of her surroundings. Her eyes stopped on Derek's unconscious body, splayed out atop the Nemeton with runes all around it. She took one more step and promptly passed out, Corey and Lydia only just managing to keep her from falling to the ground.

"Now what do we do?" Corey asked, awkwardly trying to keep Scott's mom upright.

"There's not much we can do," Mason replied, hurrying to take over for Lydia, "we just have to wait for her to wake back up."

"Bring her over here by the fire," Lydia said, leading the way, "it'll be dark soon and the nights can get cold around here. In the meantime, we'll go back to our original plan of you telling me all about the Underworld while I cook us some dinner."

"Sounds good," Mason answered, Corey giving an affirmative sort of grunt beside him. They laid Melissa down near the fire as gently as they could before plopping down themselves on the other side and launching into their story.

-o-

Scott, Derek, and Stiles each turned slowly to look at whoever had spoken, afraid of what they might see. They needn't have worried though.

"Nolan?" Scott asked, trying to make out the figure in the dark, who was clinging to the ledge of the cave.

"Yeah, it's me," Nolan replied, scrambling the rest of the way up into the cave so he could talk properly, brushing dust off his clothes as he did so.

"How did you know we were here?" Derek asked, accusation edging his voice slightly.

Nolan shrugged, keeping his distance slightly as he replied. "I was at the circus, and saw that demon carry you and Scott and Corey and Mason away. I also saw when you guys went invisible and figured this was the only logical place you could go. Where are they at anyway? And what happened to the demon? Is it on your side?"

"I don't know guys, do you think we can trust him?" Stiles asked, stepping forward from the shadows that had kept him hidden.

Nolan, surprised to see him, took a step back but remained relatively composed. "What's that supposed to mean? You know I'm on your side. Monroe killed me for helping you guys."

The other three looked back and forth between one another for a moment, having a conversation with their facial expressions. Finally, Derek smirked. "I think he can at least know about the demon."

Nolan looked intrigued, coming forward once again. Stiles, cackling slightly, said, "I agree!" Without waiting for Scott to answer, he shifted into demon form rapidly, pouncing on the young man now in front of him. "Got you, Nolan!" he said, his deep-voice reverberating off the walls. Nolan screamed, struggling to get free from the demon's powerful grasp.

"Scott! Derek! Help!" he cried, but they both simply looked on, Derek laughing slightly while Scott maintained a more concerned expression. Finally, it dawned on Nolan that they weren't doing anything, and the demon wasn't actually hurting him. He went still, looking up at the creature pinning him to the ground. "What's going on?" he asked, voice quivering sharply as he spoke.

"Stiles can shapeshift into a demon," Scott answered, taking pity on him and moving to pull demon-Stiles off the young man. Stiles stood up, shifting back to his usual self as he did so before falling back to the ground in a fit of laughter.

"How is that possible?" Nolan asked, moving to a sitting position and staring at Stiles, who was now struggling to breathe as he said something about "seeing the look on your face." Nolan ignored him, giving a slightly wounded look at Scott instead.

Scott sighed, sitting down on the ground as well, and launched into an explanation of what was going on while Derek leaned against the wall, interjecting from time to time, and Stiles remained sprawled out and dissolving into fits of laughter every minute or two.

"That…is crazy," Nolan replied, once Scott was finished. "How do you know if you were successful or not? Do you really think Corey and Mason are now alive and in the real world?"

"We need to contact Lydia and find out," Stiles replied. "Actually, we should do that now. If it didn't work, we need to figure out what happened before we go any further on our quest." Without waiting for anyone to reply, Stiles dumped a small amount of the dust from the bag in his pocket on the ground and once again began drawing runes and circles in the ground. As he began to chant, the world around them dissolved into darkness, revealing the Nemeton clearing to all four of them.

-o-

Melissa woke up after being unconscious for only a minute or two. After a couple of quick reassurances, she settled down enough to listen. As she and Lydia cooked, Mason and Corey took turns telling them about their experiences in the world beyond. For the most part, it had actually been rather uneventful. Corey, who had already died once before, knew about the Great Gates to the Underworld, and had chosen to wait there until Mason showed up. When the two were reunited, they took off together, wandering aimlessly and not really encountering anyone they knew or anything noteworthy, until about two weeks before the Pack found them. They had snuck into a small cave, away from the main crowd, to kiss one another. As they did, Corey accidentally kept making them visible and invisible, which sometimes happened when he got too excited. This drew the attention of a group of mercenaries who worked for the circus. They were quickly captured and subdued, then sold to the circus to be put on display. Melissa was in tears as they talked about the abuse they suffered, leading up to the way Scott, Stiles, and Derek had found them and the conversation that led to them being brought back to life.

"You poor boys," Melissa said, drawing them in for a tight hug as they finished their story. "I'm so sorry that all this happened to you. You don't deserve to be treated the way you have."

"It's ok, Mrs. McCall," Corey stumbled, unsure how to react to her compassion, "we're used to it."

"That doesn't make it ok," she said sternly, letting go enough so she could make eye contact with him. "If anything, that makes it worse. You shouldn't be used to people being cruel to you."

Corey looked a little lost at that. He turned to Mason, who wrapped him in his arms. "That's what I've been trying to say," he whispered, thanking Melissa with his facial expression as his boyfriend clung to him once more.

Melissa smiled, wiping a tear from her eye, before turning serious. "Now, what about Scott? Is he ok? And Stiles? How are they handling the…Underworld?"

"Oh, we're doing just fine!" Stiles said cheekily. The black mist had reappeared on the Nemeton without any of them noticing.

"Stiles!" Lydia screeched as the other three turned to stare at the mist, "what did I tell you about sneaking up like that?"

"Ow, Lydia not so loud," Scott said in response as Stiles mumbled an apology.

"Scott? Stiles? Is that you?" Melissa called out, stumbling over to the mist to get a better look.

"Yeah, we're here mom," Scott answered, "along with Derek and Nolan."

"Nolan?" the four living people all said in unison.

"Yeah, um, hi everyone," Nolan replied, a nervous tick in his voice.

"I'm sorry Melissa, we can't stay very long," Stiles interjected before anyone else could say anything, "we wanted to check and make sure Mason and Corey got back alright."

"Yeah, Stiles, we're fine." Mason answered, coming over to sit in front of the mist and study it. "We're alive, fully clothed, absolutely starving, but good other than that."

"That's good news," Scott said, "actually, it's possibly the best news I've ever heard! I'm so happy you guys made it!"

"What about you, Scott? When are you coming back?" Melissa asked quietly.

"I don't know mom. I can't come back until I find the rest of my pack. I have to make sure they are all safe. This is my one chance to fix everything."

Melissa remained silent for a moment, clearly thinking about what she wanted to say. "Ok," she finally replied, "Hon, I love you, and I want you to come back to me so badly. But I understand what you are doing, and I support you 100%. Just, promise me that, whenever this is over, you are going to come back to me. I can't keep going on knowing that you are down there."

Scott could feel tears welling up, but was unable to do anything about them. "Of course, mom. I promise I'm coming back, just as soon as I get the others."

"Don't worry, Mrs. McCall," Derek added, "we'll make sure he's looked after."

"Yeah, no worries," Stiles said, "I'll beat his little werewolf butt for you if he's tries anything too stupid or noble."

Melissa chuckled at that. "Please do. And Stiles, Derek, make sure you guys stay safe and come back too," she said, looking to the spots where their voices were coming from but unable to really distinguish them from one another. "Nolan also," she added as an afterthought.

"Really?" Nolan squeaked, surprised to be included.

"Yeah, you're a part of this crazy family too," Melissa replied. Nolan hummed slightly, clearly taken by surprised and pleased to be included.

"Um, Stiles…what do we need to do…for that?" Lydia asked, speaking quietly to avoid drawing attention, but nevertheless being overheard by all of the supernatural creatures present.

"We would need a marked of some kind, something that Nolan owned or that someone there has strong memories of him attached to. I don't think any of our current markers would work for him," Stiles said, drawing the attention of the rest of the group.

"What do you mean?" Nolan asked, slightly subdued. Stiles jumped into a quick explanation of how the whole process works, bringing him up to speed. "You guys are at the Nemeton, right?" Nolan asked, once Stiles was finished.

"Yes," Lydia replied.

"Well," Nolan began, very hesitant to speak, "if you want…I mean you don't have to, I would completely understand…you don't need to go out of your way to do it or anything…"

"Nolan, just say it already," Corey interrupted, which seemed to take everyone by surprise.

"Ok," Nolan said, taking a deep breath and continuing. "Monroe's hunters had an outpost about a mile north of the Nemeton. On the outside, it looks like an ordinary tool shed, but inside there was a small armory, kitchen, living quarters, the works…enough for a couple of people to hide out comfortably. After the Anuk-Ite, the outpost was abandoned, and I lived there for a bit while I was on the run. I left a lot of stuff behind when I tried to get out of Beacon Hills. I don't know if it's still there or not, but you might be able to find something there. You know, if you want to, and it's not too much trouble." He tapered off at the end, obviously uncomfortable asking his former enemies to do this favor for him.

"Nolan's on our side now," Scott added, noticing the silent tension coming from both worlds. "And we need all the allies we can get. But I won't ask any of you to risk yourselves to do this. I'll go to the outpost myself once I'm alive again."

Mason and Corey whispered back and forth to one another, while everyone else remained silent. Finally, Mason spoke up. "Scott, Corey and I can go to the outpost. Like you said, no one knows we're alive, so if we stay invisible no one will see us and no one will know to look for us."

"Are you sure?" Scott asked.

"You don't have to do that just for me," Nolan said.

"We're sure," Mason replied. "After all, we made a promise, right Stiles? And we intend to keep it."

"Then it's settled," Stiles said, not waiting for more questions or discussion to pop up. "Go to the outpost, see if you can find something that belonged to Nolan, and come straight back. Lydia can make sure you know how to get back through the barrier. Lydia, you know how to set up the marker on your own, right?"

"Of course," she scoffed.

"Good," Stiles continued. "You four be safe, take care of one another, and Derek's body, and the markers, and we'll try to send some more people up to join you as soon as we can."

"Stiles, this had better not be you trying to say good-bye," Melissa interrupted.

"Mom, we have to get back to our search," Scott answered for him.

"It's not safe to stay in one place for too long like this," Derek added.

"We'll be sure to contact you guys again when we can," Stiles finished, "but for now I think we need to get going."

"Ok…just, stay safe, and come home as soon as you can," Melissa said, taking a moment to compose herself.

"We will mom, I promise," Scott said, sounding close to tears himself.

"Thank you guys for being willing to include me," Nolan piped up.

"Talk to you soon," Stiles said as the mist vanished once more.

"They're gone," Melissa said, reaching out to where the mist had been.

Lydia came over and gently pulled her away, back towards the fire. "They'll be back," she said, trying to reassure the older woman, "don't worry about them. Scott and Derek can hold their own, and Stiles is the best there is at coming up with brilliant plans. This will work, it has to, and then we'll all be together and can take down these hunters once and for all."

"For now, can we just take down this pot of soup?" Corey interjected as his stomach growled fiercely. "I literally haven't eaten in, like, a year." Everyone laughed, then settled down around the fire, passing out bowls of soup, content to be together once again and talking about what the future might bring for them.

-o-

"Well, that was exciting," Stiles said as the cave rematerialized around their group.

"That was the oddest sensation in the world," Scott replied, "I couldn't feel my body."

"Yeah, try doing that for an entire week while a pokeywolf and banshee take their time wandering through the woods," Stiles muttered.

"I said I was sorry," Derek muttered back, shouldering him playfully.

"What are you guys talking about?" Scott asked, bewildered.

"We'll explain later," Stiles cheekily replied. "For now, let's climb down out of this cave and get back to our search."

Stiles, Derek, and Scott all made their way to the edge of the cliff quickly, assessing the best way to get down to the ground below. Once they had settled on a manageable route, they sat down on the ledge, preparing to climb down. It was then that Scott noticed Nolan hadn't moved.

"Hey, Nolan," he called out, half hanging over the ledge, "are you coming with us?"

Hearing his name seemed to bring him out of his reverie. "What? Oh, yeah," he replied, scurrying over to join them.

"What's up?" Stiles asked, pulling himself back up to sit on the cave floor instead of dangling over the edge.

Nolan paused for a moment, turning to look at each of them in turn. "I guess…I just…I wasn't sure if you guys were ok with me…you know, hanging around and being part of your group. After everything I did to you and the others, I don't really get why you would be willing to even forgive me, much less go out of your way to bring me back to life and include me." He looked like he was about to completely collapse in on himself, and it took the other three by surprise.

"Nolan, everyone deserves a second chance," Scott said, standing up so he could place a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "We've all made some mistakes, even some pretty serious ones that hurt a lot of people. But what matters is what you do after that."

"Yeah bud," Stiles chimed in, leaning back on his elbows to look up at Nolan, "I know how it is. When I was possessed by the Nogitsune, I did a lot of stuff to hurt people, especially the people I cared about. When we finally got rid of it, I wasn't sure I could ever be friends with anyone again, but I learned that these guys are some of the most forgiving people you could ever know, and we worked to move past it.

"But I wasn't possessed," Nolan said quietly, "I did all that on my own."

This time Derek moved forward, bending slightly to make eye contact with the boy. "You weren't possessed, but you were manipulated. We all know that. Monroe used you to get what she wanted. That's something _I_ can relate to. Gerard's daughter, Kate, did that to me when I was your age, and I ended up getting my whole family, my Pack, killed." He paused, sighing, clearly pained by telling this story. "I won't tell you that the pain goes away, because it doesn't, or at least it hasn't for me. But I will say, if you are lucky enough to find friends like these," he paused again, his gaze lingering particularly on Stiles, "it does get better with time."

"Thank you," Nolan said, quietly. "Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise I will do everything I can to help you and make it up to you."

Scott smiled, leading him over to the ledge, "you don't need to worry about trying to make it up to us. Just be our friend, try to do the right thing, and we'll try to do the same for you."

"You're one of us now," Stiles said, patting Nolan's arm as he shifted his position to begin climbing down the wall of the cave. "Trust me when I say, it's going to be an adventure you will never forget." And with that, Stiles was over the edge, scaling down the rock wall.

"I think I can be ok with that," Nolan said, a small grin forming on his face as he watched Scott and Derek also begin climbing down. He took a last look around the small cave, marveling at how much his afterlife, and potential future life, had changed during this chance encounter with people he had once tried to kill. He still didn't believe he deserved this second chance at not only forgiveness, but also true friendship – something he had desired more than anything else his entire life. It was slightly overwhelming, and he felt his knees buckle as a whirlwind of emotion threatened to overtake him.

"Hey Nole, you coming or what?" Stiles called up from his position dozens of feet below on the rock wall, breaking the train of thought that had overtaken him.

"Yes, of course!" he cried out, giddy, before scrambling over to the edge and beginning his own descent alongside his new friends. They may still be in the Underworld, surrounded by dark cave walls and screeching demons, but Nolan had never felt happier, and the mood was infectious. All four were laughing, telling jokes and sharing stories, by the time they reached the bottom of the cave wall.

"So," Stiles said, once they were back on solid ground and staring in different directions, "our fearless Alpha, have you sniffed out any more of our packmates?"

"Stiles," Scott groaned, "must you say it that way? I'm not a dog."

"Well, there was that one time, during the full moon…" Stiles began, before Scott put his hand over his mouth to stop him, much to Derek and Nolan's amusement.

"We're not going to talk about that," Scott said. Stiles nodded his head, but his eyes had a glint to them saying all to clearly that he wasn't about to let it drop completely. Scott sighed dramatically, letting go of his friend's face and concentrating on _scenting_ the air in the most dignified manner possible. Stiles and Nolan both dissolved into laughter at the sight, while Derek alone managed to keep a completely straight face. "If you two can pull yourself together," Scott said after another moment, "we need to go this way." He pointed down a narrow tunnel hidden in the wall near where they were currently standing.

Stiles regained his composure immediately, standing straight and alert once more. "Who's down there?" he asked, solemnly.

"Isaac," Scott replied.

"Who's Isaac?" Nolan asked with a slight hiccup, still pulling himself back together.

"He was my first true Beta," Derek answered, voice devoid of any emotion. "And he's a large part of the reason my pack and Scott's pack came together."

"What happened to him?" Nolan asked, now much more subdued.

"He left with Chris Argent after…we lost Allison," Scott said, glancing at Stiles as he said it. "He came back about the same time you were killed, Nolan, and Monroe's hunters found him."

"Oh," was all Nolan could think to say.

"Well," Stiles said with a false cheerfulness, "let's go find my favorite neckwear modeler. I miss his warm and fuzzy…personality." The others groaned, but agreed, and the group took off down the tunnel, Scott leading the way.


	11. Friends and Foes

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Happy reading! If you are enjoying the story, reviews/thoughts/etc. are greatly appreciated. For those who are curious, I have the rest of this story outlined now…it'll be roughly 40 chapters by the time it's done, so welcome to the 25% mark!

Chapter 11: Friends and Foes

The tunnel they entered was rather dark and narrow, even compared to the others they had been in throughout the Underworld. The artificial light that illuminated most of the caverns with a soft, gray glow seemed unable to penetrate here, and soon the group of four found themselves stumbling in the dark. Derek and Scott shifted, using their werewolf eyes to guide the human and human/demon hybrid. With the darkness also came silence, as eerie and formidable and lonely as anything they had encountered in this world.

"Scott, are you sure we are going the right way?" Stiles whispered to the Alpha wolf in front of him. The words echoed unnaturally down the length of the tunnel.

"Yeah. Isaac's scent is definitely coming from somewhere down here," Scott whispered back over his shoulder, carefully stepping around an outcropping in the floor.

"Why would he come down here?" Derek asked from the back of the group. "He hates confined spaces like this."

"You're assuming he's down here willingly," Stiles replied with a shrug of his shoulders. The group fell silent once more as their tunnel began a steep descent further underground. The way became treacherous, requiring every ounce of strength the wolves had to keep them all from losing their footing and tumbling downwards. Eventually, even that was not enough. One slip of a foot led to all four of them careening down the tunnel, tumbling over one another until they finally spilled out in a giant heap at the other end.

"Ow, that hurt," Nolan grunted from the bottom of the pile, unable to move because of the three older men on top of him.

"Whoa, look at that," Scott said, getting to his feet first and taking in their surroundings. The tunnel had led them to a huge cavern, sparkling with the light of white and green crystals covering the walls and ceiling. It was breathtaking and beautiful, and the others were instantly enthralled as they stood to join their leader.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little traitor himself," a voice spoke from their left, calling them back to their senses.

"Gabe!" Nolan squeaked, taking a step behind Scott and Stiles as the others turned to face the newcomer.

"So what, betraying us in life wasn't good enough for you? You had to go and join them here too?" Gabe sneered, seated on a particularly large crystal jutting from the wall. Scott and Derek took up defensive positions, pushing Nolan further behind them as they let their fangs and claws extend fully. Stiles remained unphased, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall as he watched.

"Monroe was wrong, Gabe," Nolan said, voice quivering slightly but strong nonetheless. "these guys…they aren't the bad guys she tried to make us believe they were."

"No, you're wrong!" Gabe shouted, jumping down from his perch and stalking forward, ignoring the werewolf growls directed at him. "These _creatures_ aren't even human. How could you choose them over your friends?"

"I chose to do what is right," Nolan replied, straightening his posture and keeping his tone steady. "And I'd do it again if I could. These _people_ are my friends now."

"Whatever man," Gabe scoffed, "if that's the side you want to be on, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when they turn on you or sacrifice you to get what they want."

"We would never do that!" Scott cried out angrily.

"You know, you talk awfully big for someone who is down here all alone," Stiles observed, eyes wandering around the crystal cave.

"Who says he's alone?" a voice from the other side of the cavern called out. Derek and Scott instinctively shifted positions, pushing Stiles and Nolan closer to the wall to keep themselves between the new threat and their pack. Nolan watched their claws apprehensively while Stiles just rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the newcomer.

"And who in the Underworld are you?" Stiles asked, squinting to make out the speaker.

"Oh, I'm sure your alpha remembers us," a second, female, voice said as she and her partner stepped forward into the light of the crystals.

"Assassins," Scott said, hunching down slightly as though preparing to attack.

"Oh yeah, from the Deadpool," Stiles added nonchalantly, "I remember now. Didn't you both get killed by Kate and her Berserkers?"

Being reminded of their deaths wiped the grins off the two teens faces. They each pulled weapons out and took up defensive stances a few yards away from the rest.

"Gabe, you're working with actual assassins?" Nolan asked, incredulous.

"It's the enemy of my enemy and all that," Gabe said with a smirk, using the distraction to inch forward slightly and reveal his own weapon.

"We have waited a long time to get revenge on you, Scott McCall," Violet said.

"And, though we can't actually kill you, being able to send you to the next stage of the afterlife will do just as good," Garrett finished.

"You all seem to be forgetting one thing," Stiles said with a sigh, picking at his fingernails slightly in a bored sort of way.

"And what would that be?" Gabe asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You're all still outnumbered," Stiles replied, standing straighter and turning to look at him with a smirk, "five to three."

"Five?" both Gabe and Nolan asked, confused. Just then, a loud shout rang throughout the cave as someone hurdled down from the ceiling towards the teen assassins and Scott darted forward to join her. Derek and Stiles leapt towards Gabe while Nolan alone remained rooted to his spot. And then it all went crazy.

-o-

"That was delicious," Mason said happily, leaning back on his elbows contently as Corey snuggled up next to him.

"I agree, you are excellent cooks," Corey added, passing his and Mason's bowls to Melissa.

"I'm sure just about anything will taste good if you haven't eaten in a year," Melissa said with a smile, "But I'll take the compliment anyway."

"It's just nice to be able to share a meal with friends again," Lydia said from across the campfire, staring wistfully into it. "We've been alone for too long." Her face took on a haunted sort of look, though none of the others chose to comment on it.

"Leave it to Stiles to come up with something this crazy," Melissa said, gathering up the rest of their dishes and setting about cleaning them. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, of course. It's just…well, it all sounds a little too impossible and weird, you know?"

"Trust us, Mrs. McCall…we know," Mason said, Corey nodding in agreement. "And we were there."

"I think there is more to it than what he has let on though," Lydia said, absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around a finger. "I know he has been pressed for time and hasn't been able to explain everything, but I feel like there are some important missing details."

Corey and Mason shared a look, both remembering their strange conversation with Stiles just before being sent back to the world of the living. "He said…some stuff," Mason started slowly, watching his boyfriend for encouragement. "Stuff about how he's making sacrifices to keep the Pack safe."

"He made us promise to look after everyone and do what we can to protect the Pack while he's not here," Corey added.

"Well, I mean that makes sense," Melissa interjected, clearly not wanting to doubt what was going on in the world of the dead. "He's not here yet, so he asked you to hold down the fort. That's perfectly reasonable."

"Yeah, but it didn't sound like that," Mason said, "it sounded like there was something else going on, something he didn't want us to know because we would be mad at him."

"Well, we'll just have to wait," Melissa replied, returning to her work. "And ask him the next time he shows up in that mist stuff."

"Hmmm," was Lydia's only reply. She turned back to the fire, lost in thought.

"I think we'll head out to that tool shed now," Mason said uneasily, standing and pulling Corey to his feet beside him. "That way we can get Nolan's marker ready as soon as possible.

"Be careful you two," Melissa was on them immediately, hugging them both as if they were her own sons going off to war. "And remember, to get through the barrier you have to be determined. Focus on wanting to reach the Nemeton, that's how I did it. And watch out for hunters, there are still a few of Monroe's people hanging around. And watch out for one another, keep each other safe. And promise me you'll come back if it's too dangerous. Don't go in if you can't…"

"We'll be fine," Mason interrupted, finally pulling himself out of her grip. "I promise, Mrs. McCall, we'll be careful."

"Thank you," Corey said simply, waiting for her to let go of him, just as reluctant to pull away.

"We'll be invisible the whole time. As long as we're quiet, no one will know we are there," Mason said. Melissa still looked nervous, but she nodded her head, giving them her blessing. "You ready, Cor?"

"As I'll ever be," he said with a sigh, taking his boyfriend's hand and fizzling them out of visibility.

Melissa listened carefully until she could no longer hear their footsteps rustling in the grass before she went back to cleaning. "Be careful, sons."

Lydia continued to stare into the fire, listening to what was going on around her but deep in thought about what secrets Stiles might have hidden from them all.

-o-

The crystal cave erupted in screams and yells. Satomi had jumped down from somewhere above them, charging straight at Garrett and Violet with Scott quickly joining her for the battle. Derek and Stiles had used the distraction to charge after Gabe, but he still had one more trick of his own up his sleeve. Hidden from view, obscured by the giant crystal he had previously been sitting on, were two more of Monroe's hunters. They stepped out of the shadows just as Derek was taking a swing at Gabe, who had stepped back, and the hunters were able to latch onto him. Nolan, finally breaking out of his stupor, ran to help Derek and Stiles against the new attackers.

"Do you know how many of my pack you murdered?!" Satomi yelled, swiping claws fiercely at the teen assassins. "Do you know how much pain and suffering you caused us all?!"

"What was it, Violet? Six?" Garrett replied, tauntingly, swinging a knife in each hand wildly.

"No, I thought it was seven," she said with an evil grin, ducking Scott's punch and rolling to get behind him with her trademark wire.

"I should rip you limb from limb," Satomi cried, a murderous rage building inside her as she charged at Garrett once again, who dove out of the way behind a rock column.

The two assassins seemed fairly evenly matched against the two alpha wolves, using the terrain they were obviously familiar with to their advantage. At the same time, Gabe and his hunters seemed to have the upper hand against one wolf and two humans. Nolan joined the fray, breaking the hold two of the hunters had on Derek, only to be knocked to the ground and pinned at gunpoint by one of them.

"Stop!" he ordered, "or I'll shoot this good-for-nothing runt." Derek immediately stopped struggling, allowing himself to be forced to his knees by Gabe and the other hunter. "That was too easy," the hunter said with a smirk.

"Wait," Gabe replied, looking around, "where'd Stiles go?"

"Oh, did you miss me?" the much deeper voice of Stiles' demon asked, emerging from the shadows.

"What the…" the hunter with the gun started before a quick chop to the back of the neck by the demon knocked him to the ground unconscious.

"It's about time," Derek snarled, jumping to his feet and knocking his captors to the ground.

"You know me, I like to make a dramatic entrance," Demon-Stiles said, picking up the other hunter and tossing him into a pillar, where he immediately went limp.

"What should we do with this one?" Derek asked, picking Gabe up by the neck.

"Well, we could always…" Stiles began before being interrupted by an ear-piercing scream. Their group turned as one to look at the other battle going on.

Scott was still fiercely fighting, now going toe-to-toe with Garrett. Satomi, meanwhile, had managed to gain the upper hand, or in this case claw, on Violet. Violet continued to scream as Satomi finished slashing across her midsection, blood beginning to pool at her feet at an alarming rate. Satomi took a step back, composing herself as she watched her enemy collapse to the ground.

"For 200 years I lived on that earth," she said, her voice like ice. "I dedicated myself to peace and non-violence, even when it meant I was shunned for my heritage and locked away from the rest of the world in an internment camp. But always a werewolf's rage burns inside, and I cannot sit by and let those who destroyed my pack go free."

"NO!" Garrett cried, watching helplessly from where Scott had pinned him down as Violet's afterlife drained away. "No, Violet, don't leave me!"

"I'm sorry," she rasped, reaching a hand towards him shakily before it fell to the ground and she went still. The air itself went still as well, no one daring to breathe as they stared transfixed at the now lifeless body of the young woman. Then, as they watched, she began to fade away, dissolving before their eyes.

"No!" Garrett shouted once more, breaking free of Scott's grasp to run towards his girlfriend's body. But he was too late, by the time he reached the spot where she had lain there was not even a drop of blood left to suggest she had ever even been there. He collapsed to his knees, sobbing into his hands. "You!" he shouted, pointing a finger at Satomi as grief turned to rage. "You…foul creature! You murdered her!" He jumped to his feet, stalking towards her.

"I did no more than what you did to seven members of my pack," she replied, a steely resolve to her voice as she extended her claws and fangs once more, eyes glowing a deep red. "And I'll do the same to you if you do not back off."

"I'd like to see you try!" Garrett screamed, pouncing at her with his knives.

"Satomi, wait!" Scott shouted, darting forward to pull the two apart. But it was fruitless, they were both fast and out for blood now. Garrett swiped haphazardly at her face and arms, causing several deep gashes in them. But, in his rage, he left himself defenseless, and Satomi was quickly able to get a couple of jabs in below his reach, straight into the stomach. It was over in seconds. Garrett stumbled, falling backwards onto the ground as Satomi and Scott both came to stand over him, one wearing a vindicated look and the other remorseful.

"Vi…Violet?" Garrett asked, staring at a point above their heads transfixed. He too reached out, this time to seemingly thin air, before coughing up blood and going still. A few moments passed, and then his body also dissolved, until there was no longer any evidence that he had ever been there.

"What just happened?" Scott asked, eyes darting between Satomi and Demon-Stiles.

"They have died the second death," a new, though familiar, voice answered, "and they have gone on to the next stage of the afterlife."

"Ms. Morell?" Scott said, turning to watch as she approached from another tunnel that they had missed.

"Hello Scott," she replied, turning to take in the rest of the group. "Stiles, I had heard from my grandfather that you had acquired the ability to turn into a demon. However, I must say, I did not believe him at the time."

"Is that so?" Demon-Stiles asked as he transformed back into his human self. "So, seeing is believing?" He added cheekily.

"Something like that," Morell replied, turning her attention back to the alphas. "What are you doing Scott?"

"What do you mean? They attacked us. We were just defending ourselves," Scott grumbled, taking a step back.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. What are you doing here, in this part of the Underworld?" her eyes seemed to pierce him as he shifted uncomfortably before her.

"We're looking for Isaac. His scent led us down this way," Scott said, daring to make eye contact.

"If Isaac Lahey is down here, it is not without purpose," Ms. Morell said cryptically, turning again to survey the rest of their group.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Derek growled, still in wolf form as he approached her.

"I understand what you are seeking to do," she answered, dismissively, "but I also know that what you are doing is upsetting the balance of this world. You've brought the soul of a living being here. You've sent the souls of dead beings back to the living world. These things will not go unnoticed for long, and I believe they will only cause you more problems in the long run. This world for the dead has existed since the foundation of the world of the living. Do not assume you can mess with something so ancient and powerful without consequence." She turned to look at each of them in turn, watching to see what affect her words would have on them.

"Your grandfather didn't have a problem with it," Stiles retorted, taking a stand alongside his wolf-friends, "he's the one who taught me how to do those things in the first place."

"From what I can tell, my grandfather was always a big risk-taker. It is what ended up getting him killed in life before his own children graduated high school, leaving the Hale Pack with a 16-year-old, untrained emissary. He's hardly someone I would place my entire future, and that of those I love, on."

"We appreciate your concern, Marin," Derek said derisively, "but we will continue to do what we feel is right."

"Oh, I know you will," she said with a smile, "I just hope you understand what is at stake here." With that, she nonchalantly began to walk off, towards another tunnel opposite the one she had come through. The others simply watched her go, unsure of what to say. "Oh, and Stiles," she said, turning back as she reached the tunnel entrance, "I hope you remember our conversation from a few years ago, after Matt died. Winston Churchill once said, 'if you are going through hell…keep going.' Those words are especially true for those of us who now live here. I hope you keep that in mind." With that, she disappeared into the dark of the tunnel, footsteps fading in the distance.

"What was that all about?" Nolan asked, breaking the silence and turning to his friends.

"I…have no idea," Stiles said, shaking his head.

"What's this about you returning souls to the world of the living?" Satomi asked, laying a hand on Scott's shoulder.

"It's a long story," Scott said, before he, Stiles, and Derek took turns explaining their mission to her.

"You are a good alpha, Scott McCall," she said with a smile when they were finished. "While I agree with Marin that the balance of the world must be preserved, you have my support in what you are trying to do. Your Pack is young; you deserve another chance at life."

"Thank you, Satomi. That means so much, coming from you," Scott said, gratitude overflowing.

"Will you come with us?" Stiles asked, "You seem like you'd be pretty handy to have around in a fight."

"No," she said with a small shake of her head, "I have my own pack to find and put back together. But, should our paths cross again, I will do what I can to help you."

"I promise we will do the same," Scott said, extending his hand to her so they could shake on it. She accepted graciously, before turning and running down the tunnel that Ms. Morell had originally appeared from.

"Well, that was weird," Stiles said, watching her go.

"Completely," Scott agreed.

"Where's Gabe?" Nolan asked. They all turned to look at the spot where their fight had taken place. The two unconscious hunters were still strewn about the ground, but Gabe was no longer anywhere to be seen.

"He must have used our conversation to sneak away," Derek growled, claws slowly extending once more.

"It doesn't matter," Scott said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder to calm him down, "I think we've proven he's no match for us. Leave him alone. Let's go find Isaac."

"Fine," Derek rumbled, closing his eyes as his claws retracted.

"Which way do we go, oh great one?" Stiles asked, turning to look at the various tunnels that all fed into the crystal cave.

Scott took a moment to scent the air once more, ignoring the giggles from his best friend and new friend. "This way," he said after a moment, pointing down another narrow corridor that had been partially obstructed by rocks.

"Of course," Stiles grumbled. "It couldn't be one of the easy ones, it has to be the one that's almost completely caved in."

"Well, come on," Derek said, grabbing his arm to drag him along. "We won't accomplish anything by standing here and staring at it." The group began shifting rocks out of the way, Stiles transforming into demon form once more to provide some added muscle. They remained uninterrupted as they worked, which they all agreed was for the best. Slowly but surely, they were able to move enough rock and rubble away to be able to crawl into the tunnel.

"Guys…I don't think I like this," Nolan called out as he crawled in behind Scott and Stiles, Derek once again protecting the rear. "I mean, I'm not like, claustrophobic, or anything, but this is a little too tight, you know."

"No, Nolan, I have no idea what you are talking about. I think it's absolutely perfect," Stiles replied sarcastically from in front of him, cursing under his breath as he scraped his elbow against the rock wall.

"It's not much farther," Scott called from the front, "I can see some light up ahead."

"No Scotty! Don't go into the light!" Stiles said, cackling slightly.

"Stiles, I'm already dead. It's too late to warn me about that," Scott replied, trying and failing to keep his voice straight.

"You guys are weird," Nolan said, laughing at them nonetheless.

"Obnoxious is more like it," Derek said with a deadpan voice, though it just made Scott and Stiles laugh harder.

"Don't be such a sourwolf," Stiles called over his shoulder once he caught his breath, "we've talked about this before. Besides, you know you love me exactly the way I am!" Derek remained silent, thankful that no one could see him blushing. "Don't let him rub off on you, Nolan. Our Pack thrives on obnoxiousness."

"Ok!" Nolan said, struggling to continue crawling through the rock because of his laughter.

"We're here," Scott said, ending the laughter as he straightened upright at the end of the tunnel and took in his surroundings.

"Yeah, but why…here?" Stiles questioned as he too reached the end of their cave and stood up.

"Where exactly is this?" Nolan asked, taking his place alongside them.

Derek finally reached the end of the cave himself, curiosity driving him mad as he listened to the others talking about something he could not see. He stood, taking in a sharp breath as the smells of fear, blood, anger, and grease all hit him at once. He looked around, foreboding skyrocketing as he took in his surroundings. "It's the Lahey's basement," he said, quietly. They took a step forward into the basement, and that is when the screaming started.


	12. Beta Blocker

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Shout out to Sherlock for your wonderful review. Thank you so much, and I hope you (and anyone else who makes it to this page) enjoys the story! That said, I'll give you a quick note of warning: the first scene of this chapter is going to be pretty rough. The quote that inspired this story is going to be rather important, even if it isn't said aloud. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 12: Beta Blocker

All at once, everything for the four boys shifted. As they stepped forward, it felt like they were shrinking, or the world around them was growing, until they were barely more than a few inches tall compared to the room around them. The screaming and shouting came from the floor above them, along with the sounds of glass and furniture being smashed to pieces and thrown around.

"What's going on?" Nolan cried out, inching closer to Stiles and Derek out of fear.

"Did we just…shrink?" Scott asked, turning to Stiles.

"What are you looking at me for?" Stiles asked, throwing his hands in the air. "How should I know what's going on?"

"Well, you seem to be the expert on the Limbo world, and figuring things out in general," Scott replied with a lopsided smile. Stiles just shook his head and began walking along the wall near the hole they had crawled out of, examining it and muttering under his breath. Nolan trailed behind him, apparently reluctant to let him get too far away.

"That's Isaac's voice," Derek said through clenched teeth as another ear-piercing scream reached them. "And his father."

"But why would Isaac be going through that here? He's a werewolf now, he can get away easily." Scott mused, watching Stiles and Nolan from his position.

"He might not remember that," Stiles said while bending over to look at something on the ground in the corner.

"What do you mean?" Nolan asked, leaning over Stiles' shoulder to see what he was examining.

"The demons are sadistic creatures. They enjoy inflicting pain on the people here, and while it doesn't really seem to matter to them who they torture specifically, from what I can tell they do like to pick on the people who suffered a lot in life."

"People like Isaac," Scott finished for him.

Stiles gave an affirmative grunt and continued his examination, grimacing at the sounds coming from above them. "They could have forced Isaac to forget about his time with us and return to the time when he was alone and his dad was abusing him. As far as that goes, they might have put Isaac and his dad back together, and this is what's happening."

"So what do we do?" Derek asked.

"I'm not sure," Stiles said thoughtfully, returning to where he and Scott were standing to examine the entrance to the cave they had crawled out of. "We'll have to undo the demon magic on ourselves before we will be able to do much of anything to help Isaac."

"Demon…magic?" Nolan quivered, eyes darting between his new friends. Derek scowled while Scott gave an inquisitive look.

"Well, yeah. I can feel it now that I'm looking for it. The cave we crawled through has a spell on it – basically, we've turned into mouse-sized humans, and the cave is now our mouse hole."

"What?" all three of them shouted at him.

"And," Stiles continued, as though they hadn't said anything, "if we don't lift the spell soon, we'll eventually turn into actual mice."

"You've got to be joking," "Stiles, this is absolutely ridiculous," "What are we going to do?" all three began talking at once, only to be silenced by the door at the top of the stairs (which looked more like a stair-shaped mountain from their perspective) slammed open. Mr. Lahey appeared, dragging Isaac by the neck. The older man was red in the face and clearly drunk, while Isaac was bloodied, bruised, and whimpering.

"You're a no good, worthless piece of trash!" Mr. Lahey shouted, the words echoing around the basement. The wolves in their pack cringed away from the sound, amplified even more due to their small size.

"We need to get out of sight," Stiles said quietly, beckoning the others to follow him underneath a work table set up in the corner where they could watch without being seen.

"I hate you!" Isaac's father bellowed, letting go. Isaac dropped to the ground at his feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I promise I'll do better in the future!" Isaac didn't look up, instead directing his words at his father's shoes.

"You think that's good enough? You've destroyed half the house! Saying your sorry isn't going to fix it," Mr. Lahey gestured wildly as he spoke, looking at everything but his son on the floor.

"Dad, please!" Isaac begged, looking up slightly. It was the wrong move to make.

"Don't call me that! You ain't no son of mine," he retorted, rearing back and kicking Isaac in the stomach. The force of the kick propelled the young man forward, careening over the ledge to tumble down the stairs. The four friends watched in horror as Isaac's head collided with the solid ground next to them. He was in too much pain to open his eyes and look at them though. Instead, he curled himself into a tight ball, silently crying and clutching what looked like a broken wrist.

"Get up!" Isaac's father called as he stomped down the staircase. "Get up you useless piece of crap. A real man doesn't just lie on the ground and cry!" He was on top of Isaac before he could react, grabbing him by the neck and dragging him to his feet. Isaac cried out in pain, but this just angered his father even more. Mr. Lahey shoved him up against the wall, holding him in place by the neck. Isaac began to choke, his eyes going wide with fear.

"Da…ad?" Isaac tried, but he couldn't get enough air into his lungs to say any more. He pleaded with his expressions and struggled to pull the hand off his throat with his uninjured one, but it didn't work.

"You…have caused…every bad thing that has happened to this family," Mr. Lahey seethed, his grip tightening. "Your mother's death…your brother's death…me losing my school job…all of it is your fault. I wish you had never been born!" He shouted the last sentence at the top of his lungs, dragging Isaac forward and throwing him to the ground again. Isaac quickly scooted away, cowering in on himself in the corner.

"I'm sorry," he rasped, still trying to get air back into his lungs, "I'm sorry! Please, dad, please stop."

"Why should I?" Mr. Lahey was on him instantly, dragging him to his feet again, this time by his hair. "You destroyed everything. And you're still doing it. I should kill you and be done with it. Dump your body in that grave we just finished digging when it's time to bury the casket and tell the police that my good-for-nothing son ran away. Then I wouldn't have to listen to you whine or look at your stupid face!" He lifted Isaac up slightly higher with the hand still clutched to his hair while balling his other hand up in a fist. He sneered at the pleading look in his son's face before punching Isaac in the groin as hard as he could. He then let go, allowing Isaac to drop to the ground once more, where he curled up into a fetal position.

Mr. Lahey left him there for a moment, going over to his work bench and pulling down a bottle of whiskey. He took a giant swig, emptying it of its contents, then threw the bottle at the wall above Isaac, where it shattered and rained glass down on the injured boy. Isaac didn't even flinch, instead remaining where he was, tears flowing freely as he did his best not to make any noise. Mr. Lahey snorted in disgust, walking back over to his son and leering down at him.

"You're pathetic," he said, no longer shouting. He cleared his throat and spat at Isaac's head, kicking him in the stomach again to force him to look up at him. "I think I need to put you in time out, maybe that will toughen you up."

Isaac instantly cringed away, his tears stopped and the expression on his face was pure terror. Scott and Derek could smell the change as well, fear radiating off of the young man in torrents. "No, no, no, no, please no, you don't have to do that, please dad, anything but that, please!" Isaac continued to beg and plead as his father grabbed him by his broken wrist and dragged him to his feet. Isaac didn't even flinch in pain as he continued his pleas uninterrupted, getting louder and more intense as his father dragged him over to the old freezer on the other side of the basement. "Please, dad, no, don't do this. I promise I'll be good, I won't do anything bad, I promise, please dad, just please, let me go. I'll leave and never come back if that's what you want, I'll do whatever you want, but please don't do this!" He dragged his feet and tried to pull his injured wrist out of his father's grip, but Mr. Lahey was stronger and yanked him forward.

"Get in, Isaac," he said calmly, shoving his son forward slightly and crossing his arms across his chest.

Tears began to well up in Isaac's eyes again as his gaze quickly darted between his father and the freezer. "Please," his voice went quiet, barely more than a whisper, and his whole body trembled fiercely. "Please don't do this again. Please."

"Get in the damn freezer! Don't make me tell you again, or it'll be worse!" Mr. Lahey shouted, pushing against Isaac's chest and forcing him to stumble up against the freezer. Isaac let out a whimper that cut to the heart of all four of the boys hidden under the table nearby, watching helplessly as their friend slowly climbed into the freezer, still begging his father to let him go. Mr. Lahey ignored him, slamming the lid down and barely missing Isaac's fingers. He attached the chains around the edges with practiced ease, locking everything into place with a padlock as Isaac began to pound on the inside walls of the freezer in desperation. "Shut up, or I'll leave you in there to rot for good!" Isaac went quiet, though the werewolves could still hear him crying and the erratic, too-fast beating of his heart. Lock in place, Mr. Lahey turned without a word and trundled back up the stairs, slamming and locking the door at the top.

"Quick, Derek, we need to get up there and get that lock off of the freezer!" Scott shouted, dashing forward into the room the moment Isaac's dad was safely upstairs.

"Scott, wait!" Stiles called after him as he and the others followed a little behind him.

"No, we have to rescue him!"

"But I'm not sure it'll work."

"What do you mean?" Scott turned to look at his best friend, expression pained in sympathy for Isaac.

"I don't think we just shrunk. I'm pretty sure our strength and everything else shrunk with us."

"Stiles, what are getting at?" Derek asked, struggling to not shift into werewolf mode.

"I'm saying, I'm not sure a were-mouse is going to be strong enough to get through those chains. And even if you can, what happens after that? How do you think Isaac will react to being rescued by a couple of four-inch tall people?" Stiles stood his ground against the wolves, Nolan looking back and forth between them.

"What, then, do you suggest we do?" Derek asked through clenched teeth.

"Let me see if I can break this spell and return us to normal size. It'll make freeing Isaac, and reminding him of who he really is, a whole lot easier," Stiles answered, turning to dart off back towards the mouse-hole entrance before any of them could say anything else. The others stared at one another for a moment before following after him.

"Hold on in there, Isaac, we're coming for you buddy," Scott called out as he ran past the edge of the freezer.

-o-

"Is it just me, or did they get even weirder while we were gone?" Corey asked quietly as they stepped through the magical barrier surrounding the Nemeton.

"Yeah, a little. I guess it makes sense though, they've both been through a lot," Mason replied in a whisper, squeezing his boyfriend's hand slightly. Corey returned the gesture with a small smile.

"What does that mean for us then?" he asked, pausing once they were outside the clearing to glance around and figure out which way they needed to go.

"We've been through a lot too," Mason said, watching Corey's movements. "I imagine we've probably changed even more than we realize."

"Maybe," Corey said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "This way is north," he added, pointing down a narrow path before slowly starting to follow it.

"Keep your eyes peeled and your senses on high alert, we don't want to accidentally walk into a trap or stumble across any hunters."

"You don't have to tell me, I was already on edge before we set out to do this." They paused for a moment, having a wordless conversation with their facial expressions.

"It's the right thing to do, you know that," Mason finally said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I just…we both died because of this pack. I like them, they're our friends and I don't mind helping them, but we've barely been alive for a couple of hours and we're already putting our lives on the line for them. We said, _you_ said, that things were going to be different this time." Corey had to look away as he spoke, afraid of how his boyfriend would respond.

"And I meant it, things will be different…better. But it won't happen if we just sit and hide. We will have to fight for the changes we want to see in the world. Maybe not physically; I mean, we're contributing right now by helping to bring Nolan back. But, whatever form it takes, we'll have to work for it. And I think it will be worth it in the end. As long as we are together, it will always be worth it," Mason grabbed Corey's other hand as he spoke, turning him to look him in the eye once more. Corey's resolve strengthened as Mason spoke – still not entirely convinced, but much more willing to go with his boyfriend's plan anyway.

"I love you," Corey said, melting into Mason's embrace and humming softly at the comfort he found there.

"I love you too, Cor," Mason added, tightening their hug and drawing Corey closer to himself. The two remained in contemplative silence and peace for a couple of minutes until a faint rustling sound in the trees alerted Corey that they were no longer alone. He tensed up, silently pulling Mason off the path to stand behind some bushes so they wouldn't accidentally be run into while invisible. The rustling became more distinct, and eventually Corey was able to determine two men were walking down the path.

"So, what do you think she's up to?" they heard one of them ask as they got closer.

"Who knows anymore. I swear, Monroe has gone insane. She's convinced that Scott McCall's pack is going to launch some huge strike against her," the other replied.

"How is that supposed to work?" the first asked derisively as they passed by where Corey and Mason were hiding. "McCall is dead, and so's basically his entire pack. What does she think they're going to do, come back as ghosts or something and haunt us?"

"How the hell should I know," the second man said, throwing his arms up in the air. "Ever since those guys came running back screaming about some talking mist showing up at that stupid giant tree stump she's obsessed with, she's been acting like the Apocalypse is going to come. I swear, if I wasn't being paid so well, I'd ditch this whole thing now and go back to working for the construction company."

"Yeah, I hear ya," the first said, voice becoming indistinct as they moved further away. "Still, if they're all dead, it's not like we have anything to really worry about. Let Monroe beef up patrols and security. At the end of the day, it just means a bigger paycheck for us." They could just barely hear the second man agreeing as their voices drifted away too far to be heard.

"Monroe is increasing security?" Corey asked, pulling Mason back out from the bushes and onto the path.

"And she knows something is going on, although I doubt she knows what exactly," Mason replied, grimacing.

"Well, then we better hurry," Corey said, not waiting for a reply as he took off down the path.

"Wait, the Nemeton is the other way," Mason called out as he was half-dragged along.

"I know that, but we have a job to finish before we can go back to safety," Corey replied. Mason smiled at that, shaking his head slightly as he got his feet back under him properly and came alongside his boyfriend.

"You really have changed," he said, darting a sideways glance at Corey briefly.

"Yeah, I guess I have," Corey said simply, not taking his eyes off the path. "Look, there's the tool shed," he added, stopping a short distance away.

"And there's Monroe's extra security," Mason finished, surveying the dozen men walking around under the floodlights that had been set up in the area, all armed to the hilt with various weapons.

-o-

"Have you figured it out yet? Can you get us back to regular size and break the spell? Are we going to be forced to live the rest of our afterlives as rodents?" Nolan asked, growing hysterical as he watched Stiles, who was methodically tracing over some rune-like markings he had found on the wall of the cave they had crawled through to reach the Lahey basement.

"Nolan, maybe you should bring it down a notch," Scott said, placing a comforting hand on the teen's shoulder, though his facial expression said clearly that he wanted to ask all of the same questions.

"This is so weird," they heard Stiles mumbling to himself as he continued to investigate the runes. "There's no way these two things should be able to go together. I should be the only one."

"What are you talking about, Stiles?" Derek asked, hunching down to get a closer look at whatever was so perplexing. Stiles by this point had lain down on the ground, tracing the runes on the ceiling of the cave entrance with an outstretched arm. He scooted forward, allowing Derek to extend a hand out and help him up to his feet.

"Well, Stiles? What do you think?" Scott asked, alarmed that his voice was starting to take on a higher pitch. Nolan had begun to grow what looked like mouse whiskers, which he kept subconsciously stroking, and Derek's skin had slowly begun to break out in fur.

"This spell shouldn't be possible," Stiles answered, adjusting his pants slightly to let a tail out over the waistband in the back that had started to grow. "There, that's better. Anyways, it's using a combination of both Druid and demon magic to work."

"But isn't that what you do?" Derek asked, scratching at his furry arm.

"Yeah, but I thought I was the only one who could combine the two. You have to have access to both forms of power in order to use them both. This must mean there is another Druid out there who has taken over a demon the way I have. Either that, or somehow I put this spell here and can't remember doing it," Stiles seemed to be seriously perplexed, lost in thought. "Do you think there's any possibility of me remembering something that I can't remember doing, if I am actually the one who did it without remembering doing it?"

"Um…what?" Nolan asked, thoroughly confused, staring down a nose that had grown and become mousy.

"Never mind that right now," Scott squeaked, his voice becoming higher pitched with every word. "Can you undo it?"

"What? Oh…yeah, I think so," Stiles went silent, swinging his now full-length tail around absently like a jump-rope. "Let's try this," he finally said, strolling over to lie back down on the floor underneath the cave entrance. He used a finger that now looked like a claw to scratch at the runes, muttering in some foreign language under his breath. He continued muttering the incantation as he stood back up, shifting into demon form as he did so and raising his hands outstretched towards his friends. His voice rose in volume as he spoke, until he was nearly shouting the words that only he could understand. Finally, his eyes flashed silver as he stared upwards and a blinding white light enveloped all of them. They were knocked to the ground, a tangled mass of limbs as the light dissipated.

"Ow, will you get your hand off of that!" Scott called out, voice back to being masculine and human sounding.

"Hey, we're back to normal!" Nolan said, rolling off of Scott and standing up.

"Well, I don't know if any of us could ever have been considered normal," Stiles replied, placing a hand on Derek's chest to push himself off of the ground. "But, we are back to the way we were."

"Ha, ha, you're hilarious," Derek said, also rising to his feet and checking himself over. "But I am glad to not be covered in fur anymore."

"But you get covered in fur all the time when you switch to wolf-mode," Stiles said quizzically, tilting his head to look at Derek.

"Wolf fur and mouse fur are two completely different things," was all Derek said in response.

"Um, guys. I don't think we are going to be able to leave the way we came in," Nolan said, looking around the room before pointing at the still mouse-sized hole in the wall at their feet.

"That's probably for the best," Stiles replied, stooping down to examine the hole once again. "I don't know what would have happened if we allowed the spell to be put on us again."

"Hello? Dad, is that you? Who's there?" The sound of Isaac's voice froze them all in place as they remembered the full weight of where they were and what had been going on.

"Isaac!" Scott shouted, darting over to the freezer. "Hold on, we're going to get you out of there." The others quickly joined him as Scott crushed the padlock with his bare hands and fumbled to undo the chains. With a mighty heave, he and Derek ripped the lid off of the freezer completely, and all four of them stood around the edge, peering in at a very lost, beaten, and confused looking Isaac. He had scrunched himself up, wrapping his arms around his legs tightly and tentatively supporting his broken wrist. Blood splattered the walls and floor of the freezer where he had scraped and scratched against it in previous attempts to get out. His lip was bleeding, along with several cuts and scrapes on his face and arms. A massive black eye had nearly swollen his left eye shut completely, and his nose looked to be bent at an odd angle. Derek and Scott could tell there were more bruises and injuries hidden under his clothes, and the sight of him made them all sick to their stomach.

"Come on bud, let's get you out of there," Stiles said with a grimace, holding a hand out for Isaac to take. The blond didn't take it though, instead flinching away slightly as though afraid the hand might hurt him as he stared at each of them. Stiles quickly withdrew it and instead turned to Scott and gave him a look.

"Who…who are y-you?" Isaac asked tentatively, trying to examine them without actually making eye-contact or looking at any of them directly.

"We're your friends, Isaac. We're here to get you out of here," Scott said, slowly reaching in as well. Isaac watched his hand with trepidation, scrunching himself up further until he couldn't back away anymore.

"I…I don't…I don't have any…f-friends," Isaac stuttered out, never taking his eyes off Scott's hand as it slowly made its way to his shoulder. A spasm went through his entire body at the touch, and he shut his eyes tightly, preparing himself for the pain. When it didn't come, he opened his eyes wide and stared in shock at the black veins appearing on the hand and the feeling of pain being siphoned out of his body.

"What are you?" Isaac asked, turning his gaze away from the hand to finally look up into it's owner's face. Scott gave him a warm smile that seemed to relax him slightly, though he remained tense and distrustful.

"I'm a werewolf," Scott calmly replied. Isaac didn't outwardly react to that statement, though his eyes did dart to the others as if gauging how they responded. "And so are you," Scott added. This did earn him a look of incredulity from the blond boy.

"I'm…what? I'm not a werewolf. Why would you say that?" Isaac turned away, a look of betrayal and anxiety replacing the slightly hopeful one he'd been wearing.

"Because it's true," Scott said, bending forward so he could lean in closer to the young man and place a hand on his shoulder once more. "You've just forgotten for a little bit." Isaac turned to look up at Scott, and as he did so Scott flashed his alpha-red eyes at him. Isaac's eyes briefly glowed golden in response. It seemed to take him by surprise before he grunted in pain and clutched his head with both hands. Scott straightened up, watching with concern as Isaac writhed in agony, shifting back and forth between wolf and human forms. Finally, he went still, eyes closed and breathing ragged, and the other four all drew in for a closer look, noticing first that his wounds were healed. He opened his eyes slowly, as though waking from a deep sleep.

"Scott?" Isaac mumbled, looking vaguely in the alpha's direction. "Scott, is that you? Where am I?"

"Yeah, it's me," Scott breathed out with a sigh of relief. "Let's get you up on your feet." Scott grabbed one arm while Stiles grabbed the other, and together they hoisted Isaac to his feet and helped him out of the freezer. As they did so, their surroundings changed. The basement grew cold and dusty and dilapidated, as though no one had been in it for years. He looked around at it, then at his friends.

"Its so good to see you guys!" Isaac cried out, voice hitching slightly in his throat as he threw one arm around Scott's shoulder and the other around Stiles', dragging them both in for a tight hug.

"I missed you too, buddy," Stiles said, returning the embrace. "Although, I'm also going to miss my ribs if you keep squeezing so tightly."

"Oh, sorry," Isaac said, sheepishly, as he let go of them both. Scott rubbed a hand across Isaac's shoulder while Stiles massaged his ribcage. "Derek!" Isaac shouted, noticing that the older man was there as well, standing off to the side and watching with an amused expression on his face. The amusement turned to concern as Isaac jumped towards him, wrapping him up in a tight hug and lifting him off of the ground to spin him in circles.

"Hi Isaac…it's good to see you too…now, can you please put me down," Derek said, looking rather uncomfortable by the display of emotion.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm just so excited! It's been so long," Isaac said happily, grinning from ear to ear. He turned to look at the remaining person in the room, Nolan, who had backed himself up against a wall to stay out of the way during the reunion. "Hi there. I don't know who you are." Isaac waved tentatively, turning to look at Scott. "Is he part of…us?" He asked.

"Yes," Scott replied firmly, which drew a small smile from the newcomer. "Isaac, this is Nolan."

"Nice to meet you," Isaac said, extending a hand to the younger boy to shake. "So, what's going on?" Isaac asked, staring back at the basement once more with disdain.

"Well Isaac," Stiles said, grinning as he swung an arm over the wolf's shoulder to the groans of Scott and Derek. "Let me officially welcome you…to Hell!"


	13. The Way Forward

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: I'm so happy to see that you all seem interested in this story! Having said that, I must also apologize, because work is killing me right now and its likely going to be slow going on updates for a while. As Always, comments are appreciated. Enjoy!

Chapter 13: The Way Forward

"Stiles, seriously, you don't have to say that every time!" Derek growled.

"You're right, I don't _have_ to. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop," Stiles said cheekily, wrapping his free arm around Derek's shoulder.

"I'm so confused right now," Isaac said, trying to hide his grin as he watched the two banter.

"What do you remember?" Scott asked, moving in to throw an arm over Isaac's shoulder as well while beckoning for Nolan to join them.

Isaac took a moment to answer, looking lost in thought. "I remember dying," Isaac said carefully, wincing at the reactions of his friends, "and then I was at some giant gates in the middle of a huge cave."

"The Spirit Gates," Stiles interjected, nodding encouragingly.

"Yeah, those," Isaac continued, "I was surrounded by people. Mostly it looked like people were waiting for something. It was too crowded for me, so I took off down a tunnel."

"Why would there have been so many people?" Scott asked, turning to face Stiles.

"They're waiting for their friends or family," Stiles replied simply, before nudging Isaac to continue.

"Yeah, so, anyways, I wandered around for a while, mostly just looking to see what was around," Isaac said. "I eventually started heading back towards those gates when I saw Jackson."

"Wait, what! Do you know where he is?" Scott interrupted excitedly, shaking the whole group.

"No, I don't," Isaac winced again as he saw the enthusiasm drain out of his alpha. "Jackson was being dragged away by some demon-looking thing. I ran to try and help him, but another demon stopped me. The next thing I remember is waking up in my bedroom, with my dad…well, you know. He kept going until you guys showed up."

"Oh," was all Stiles could think to say. The rest remained silent, staring at one another.

"What? What happened?" Isaac asked, concern growing as he watched them all.

"Ok, so in all seriousness," Stiles began, letting go of Derek and positioning himself in front of Isaac, a hand firmly placed on each of his shoulders, "it's like this…" With several interjections from Scott and Derek, Stiles told Isaac the whole story of what had happened from Isaac's death to the present day. To say Isaac was astonished would be an understatement. When they had finished, he took a step back, leaning against the dilapidated workstation as he tried to process everything they had told him.

"You're serious? All that has happened? How long have I been gone?" Isaac questioned, eyes darting between the three of them.

"Umm," Stiles began, thinking. "I'd say you've been dead about two years…roughly."

"Two years!" Isaac cried out, jaw hanging open in bewilderment. "That's insane!"

"But we're making things right," Scott said, trying to calm him down, "we're going to send you back to the world of the living, along with the rest of the Pack. We're going to do things better this time around."

"Yeah…but still… two years," Isaac said, voice taking on a mystified air. "I'm 20 years old."

"Actually," Stiles said, drawling the word out unnecessarily long, "I don't think you are. I think you're still 18."

"What do you mean?" Isaac asked.

"Stiles, what are you talking about?" Derek growled through clenched teeth.

"Easy there, buddy," Stiles said, holding his hands up in surrender. "It's just an observation…call it a theory. But, I don't think people age in Limbo. I mean, look at George Deaton – the guy's been dead 60 years but he still looks middle-aged to me. Or how about those assassins we just ran into? They died what, 3, 4 years ago – but they still looked like high school kids. And I know it was quick, but Mason and Corey were dead for over a year and, when we saw them after we sent them back, they looked exactly the same; they were even wearing the same clothes as when they died."

"So, what does that mean for us?" Scott asked, struggling to keep up.

"It means," Stiles said with a sigh, "that I'm pretty sure whatever age we were when we died, that is the age we will be when we come back to life."

"But…that means Allison will be 17 and I'll be almost 21," Scott murmured, looking crestfallen.

"Not sure that's the point I wanted to make, but sure, we can go there," Stiles grumbled.

"Better odds for me then," Isaac said, bumping his shoulder into Scott's. "Unless, you know, you don't want me to," he quickly backtracked, worried he would upset his alpha.

"No, no, it's ok," Scott said weakly, trying to look cheerful and failing miserably.

"Yeah, besides," Stiles said, genuinely cheerful with just a hint of mischief in his voice, "you still have Kira _and_ Malia, Scott." Scott's entire body turned pale white as he turned to his best friend with a look of absolute horror on his face.

"Stiles…what am I going to do? How do I…what do I…what if they…I'm dead," he stumbled.

Stiles chuckled at his friend's predicament before throwing his arm over Scott's shoulder, "Yeah, Scott, we're all dead. That's why we're here."

"No, I mean, I'm like…double dead. Don't even bother sending me to the world of the living, I'll just end up back here again, dead," Scott replied.

"Scott, it can't be that bad. And right now, we have bigger issues to worry about," Derek said, rolling his eyes at the alpha wolf as he imploded.

"If we're still the same age as when we died," Nolan interjected, speaking for the first time since they had freed Isaac and catching them all off guard, "does that mean I have to go back to high school? Because if that's the case, I think I'd rather stay here too and keep Scott company." They all stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded, before simultaneously bursting into laughter.

"How about for now we just worry about getting out of this basement and finding the rest of the Pack?" Derek said as the laughter died back down, casting a meaningful glance at each of them.

"I'm good with that," Isaac said, taking another look around at their surroundings and tensing visibly.

"Well, the stairs are the only way out that I can see," Nolan added, also looking around.

"Alright, but be quiet. I don't want to have to deal with my dad again," Isaac said, his whole body beginning to tremble slightly. Scott and Stiles moved to place a hand on either shoulder, grounding him between them as the group moved cautiously up the staircase. At the top, with Derek leading the way, they slowly moved through the doorway, eyes darting in every direction down the dust-covered hallway.

"It looks like the coast is clear," Nolan whispered, bringing up the rear of the group. They all breathed a sigh of relief. But it was premature. A sudden, rushing wind blew through the air, stirring up all the dust and making it impossible to see. They heard the sound of the basement door slamming behind them. The group clung to one another, afraid of being separated by whatever new threat they were about to face. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped. The dust settled, the air went still, and the group opened their eyes to find themselves in a dark, eerily lit room. The walls were stone, the light coming from a handful of torches. It looked like the dungeon of an old castle.

"My, my, we have been naughty little boys, haven't we?" an odd voice said from behind them. They whipped around to face the speaker, but were completely taken aback by what they saw.

-o-

"So, how do you want to handle this?" Mason asked, glancing sideways towards his boyfriend as they studied the clearing in front of them. It was much smaller than the one surrounding the Nemeton, but that didn't help them much. A dozen armed men were scattered around the clearing in pairs, some marching back and forth while others stood watch. The tool shed stood in the middle of the cleared space, looking like nothing more than a dilapidated mini-barn. If they didn't know what lay inside, the boys would have thought the whole thing looked rather absurd.

"I don't know," Corey replied. "They can't see us, but they might notice the shed door opening by itself. And they'll definitely notice if one of them bumps into us."

"We're going to need a distraction," Mason said grimly.

"How're we going to manage that?" Corey asked, a look of foreboding on his face. Mason didn't respond right away, instead studying the clearing and its occupants carefully.

"There," he finally said, pointing at a lone guard standing on the perimeter behind the shed. "That guy is listening to something, you can see he has earphones in. If we can steal one of the grenades from his belt while he isn't paying attention, we can set it off nearby. They'll think they're being attacked, and that should give us an opportunity to sneak in amongst the chaos."

"There are, like, a million things that can go wrong with that plan," Corey said, giving his boyfriend a doubtful expression.

"I know, but it's the best I can come up with at the moment," Mason shrugged, slowly pulling Corey along towards the distracted man. They snuck up behind him wordlessly, sticking to the thickets around the clearing for extra cover. They both held their breath as Mason slowly and carefully removed two grenades from the guard's belt. The man flinched slightly, causing both boy's heartrates to skyrocket, but otherwise he remained completely oblivious to their presence. They both breathed a sigh of relief once they were a couple dozen feet away.

"Alright, we have the grenades, now what?" Corey asked.

"We need to move in close to the shed door, somewhere that we won't be run into when everything goes crazy," Mason said, grimacing at the look his boyfriend gave him. "Once the grenades go off, I'm guessing we'll only have a couple of minutes to dart in, look for something of Nolan's, and get back out without having to worry about how we can get out of here undetected."

"Ok, in, out, fast. What else?" Corey looked like he wanted to cross his arms over his chest, but he couldn't while he was holding Mason's hand, so he settled for huffing slightly in a disdainful way.

"Hope we don't get caught," Mason said, which did nothing to cheer Corey up.

"Fine," Corey said, rolling his eyes with exasperation, "give me the grenades. I can throw farther than you."

Mason handed them over wordlessly, and Corey pocketed them. Both boys shared another meaningful look, then slowly crept out of the bushes and towards the shed. They came up to it from behind, skirting the sides until they were stood at the corner closest to the door. They each took a deep breath, anxiety filling them. With a look that said no-going-back-now, Corey pulled the grenades out of his pockets, handing one to Mason to hold while he brought the other one up to stare at it. He did nothing for a moment, until Mason silently nudged him, bringing him out of whatever thoughts were swirling in his head. With another deep breath, Corey gathered his resolve, pulled the pin out with his teeth, and lobbed the grenade off into the trees to their right. He quickly grabbed the other from Mason, pulling the pin out the same way, and threw it off to their left just as the first one exploded.

Several of the men were knocked to the ground as the explosion cascaded debris into the clearing. Shouts and cries rang through the air as the second explosion hit. Sheer pandemonium gripped the clearing as men pulled themselves to their feet and darted around frantically searching for the source of the attack. No one noticed as the shed door creaked open a few inches, allowing Mason and Corey to sneak inside and down a flight of stairs and into a room stuffed full of shelves of weaponry, computers and tv monitors lining the walls, and a couple of doors leading to other rooms.

"Where do we begin?" Corey asked, eyes darting around the room.

"The lockers," Mason whispered, pointing to a row of them along the far wall. The two moved quickly, beginning to search as stealthily as possible without letting go of one another.

-o-

"What are you?" Scott asked, letting go of Stiles and Isaac so he could place himself in front of their group.

"Well, now that's a rather rude question to ask right off the bat, isn't it?" the creature responded with a squeaky, high-pitched voice. It was hovering in the air, a small set of wings jutting from its back keeping it afloat. It looked like it would be no more than three feet tall if it were to stand on the ground. Its skin was stark white, with pink and green hair sticking out of its head and dusting its arms. It wore a set of overalls with rainbows and sparkles all over, and neon boots that matched its hair perfectly. The face and body looked like a combination of a human child and a stuffed animal. The difference between the creature and the room they now found themselves in was spectacular, and it did more to unnerve them than just about anything else they had encountered so far.

"We're sorry, we didn't mean to offend you," Stiles said, placing a hand on Scott's shoulder to pull him back slightly. He looked worried, and the wolves noticed that his scent changed to one of fear and anxiety. Whatever this thing was, it had Stiles on edge, which they all knew meant trouble. Derek slowly let his claws extend, pushing Isaac and Nolan behind him slightly so that they were protected by him, Scott, and Stiles.

"That won't be necessary, wolf," the creature said, pinning Derek with a piercing gaze that stopped him in his tracks. "I'm not here to attack you, though I dare say if I did, those claws of yours would do you no good."

"May we ask," Stiles said, placing his other hand on Derek's arm to stop the growl that was beginning to form in the wolf's throat, "how we can be of assistance to you today?" Stiles gave a slight bow of his head, not making eye contact with the creature. It was unnerving, to say the least, and Derek didn't like it one bit. But he relented, for now, and withdrew his claws, returning to normal.

"No assistance is needed," the creature replied, hovering slightly higher in the air to give it a better vantage point. "You've done more than enough already, you naughty things." The creature laughed, whirling about in the air slightly like a child playing.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," Stiles said, still bowed slightly. The others watched in silence, more concerned by his stoic speech than anything else.

"Of course you don't," the creature said, landing lightly on the ground and stomping up towards the group. Stiles didn't move, but the others all gathered in closer, the wolves hunching slightly, preparing to defend against an attack. The creature sighed at that, "I already told you, your claws and fangs will do you no good against me. I'm one of the seven chief pixies of the Underworld, a servant of Lord Cerberus himself. Stop making fools of yourselves and learn to show proper respect, like your friend here." None of them knew what to say to that, but at a sideways glance from Stiles, Derek and Scott decided to mimic his bow, and the others followed suit.

"That's better," the pixie said, eyes darting humorously between them. "Now then, I've been getting some strange reports here lately. An escapee from the suicide pit," Scott winced, and the pixie eyed him suspiciously, "the Dingling Brothers' circus completely destroyed," Nolan gulped, drawing the pixie's gaze off of Scott and to him instead, "and now two of the _kakodaimones' douloi_ are roaming free of their prisons," Stiles didn't move, though the scent of his fear and frustration was noticeable to the wolves. The pixie sighed dramatically, turning on its heel and rising into the air once more. "As the pixie in charge of this section of the Underworld, all these disturbances reflect very poorly on me. Lord Cerberus would be most displeased if word reached him about what's been going on. And, since this little group of yours seems to be at the center of it all, I think it would be best if I just destroy you now and be done with this."

"No, you can't!" Stiles cried out, shocking every other being in the room. The pixie turned back around, gazing furiously at him. "What I mean is," Stiles said, backtracking and returning to his respectful bow, "Lord Cerberus would be angry if souls were removed from his realm before they could finish serving their time. Destroying us won't undo the things that have been done. And the…real culprits will just continue with what they've been doing."

The pixie darted forward, hovering inches in front of Stiles' face. "Are you trying to tell me that your little gang here is _not_ responsible for the things that I've just mentioned?"

"Yes, that's correct," Stiles said, struggling slightly to keep his voice steady. "We, uh, we had a run in with some people that I think might be the ones you are looking for, back in the crystal cave."

"Hmm," the pixie said, pulling back slightly and hovering a few feet higher, an arm raised to its chin in thoughtful contemplation. "I suppose it is possible that what you say is true. I will have to investigate further to know for sure."

"Does that mean we are free to go?" Scott asked tentatively. Stiles glared at him as the pixie chuckled mirthfully.

"Oh, of course not!" the pixie said. "You may be innocent. You may be guilty. Until I know for sure, you shall stay here, where I can keep an eye on you!" There was a loud crack, causing them all to look up, but the pixie was no where to be seen. The room began to shake, knocking them off balance slightly. It felt like they were in a fast moving elevator, until all at once it stopped. The group stood once again, taking in their surroundings. Nothing had changed, except now…

"There aren't any doors!" Nolan cried out, "We're trapped!" The rest quickly looked over the walls, but they were forced to all come to the same conclusion.

"No, no, no no, no, no," Isaac said, beginning to spin in circles in the middle of the room as he looked at the walls surrounding them. "No, this can't be happening, I can't, I…let me out!" Isaac shifted into werewolf form, running at the closest wall to begin pounding on it.

"Isaac!" Scott called out, chasing after him, "Isaac, it's ok, we're going to get out of here, I promise!"

"What's going on?" Nolan squeaked, backing away as the frantic Isaac began to scrape his claws against the walls, darting from one to the next with Scott following him trying to calm him down.

"Isaac is claustrophobic," Stiles answered, turning to examine the nearest section of stone wall. "We need to find a way out of here now, before he loses control."

"You mean he hasn't yet?" Nolan asked incredulously as the wolf roared at a wall on the other side of the room that he was currently punching.

"Yes, and its going to get really bad really quickly," Stiles replied. Nolan jumped up and began to feel along the walls as well, sticking close to Stiles as he cautiously watched Isaac out of the corner of his eye. Scott and Derek were now both trying to corral and calm the frightened werewolf, but without success. Isaac no longer seemed to recognize them, snarling as he swiped his claws at his friends.

"Let me out of here!" He shouted at them, lacing it with a werewolf growl.

"Isaac, you need to calm down!" Scott shouted back, shifting into his own werewolf form for protection more than anything else.

"Scott, just yelling at him isn't going to help. You know that," Derek chastised, wiping blood away from his chest where Isaac had gouged him. Isaac turned away from them and back to the nearest wall, which he began furiously pummeling with kicks and punches. His knuckles quickly became bruised and bloody, but it did nothing to the wall.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Scott asked, concern gripping him.

"Use your alpha voice. Don't howl," Derek said, glancing at Stiles on the other side of the room as he said it, "just lace your normal voice with alpha authority. He's your beta, part of your pack, he'll respond to it."

"What if it doesn't work?" Scott asked, much quieter as he watched his friend helplessly.

"You have to be confident," Derek replied. "We're all connected to one another. The pack bond is more than just a feeling. I thought you already knew that."

"Well, yeah," Scott said defensively, "I just don't know how it'll help."

"As the alpha, your emotions will affect your pack. If you're calm and confident, the rest of the pack will be too. But if you're afraid, the rest of us will feel that fear and it will make us afraid. Isaac needs you to be calm and authoritative right now."

"Alright, I think I understand," Scott said. He took a deep breath, centering himself slightly. Then, with a low growl that reverberated throughout the room, he called out Isaac's name, long and slow. The younger werewolf instantly turned to face his alpha, whimpering slightly as he collapsed in on himself and cowered against the wall. Scott and Derek both ran over, kneeling on the ground next to him.

"I'm sorry," Isaac said quietly, turning to hide his face from his friends.

"Don't be, its not your fault," Scott said, gently patting him on the back.

"Everything's going to be ok Isaac," Derek added, also placing a hand on the young wolf's shoulder. Isaac didn't look up, but his breathing did even out slightly at the touch.

"I don't like it here. Please don't make me stay here," Isaac whispered, softly enough that they could barely hear him even with their supernatural hearing.

"We're going to get out of here. I promise you," Scott whispered back, bending in closer to drag Isaac into a half-hug.

"Hey guys!" Nolan called out from the other end of the room, "I think we've found a way out of here."

"Well, at least a way forward," Stiles added. Isaac was up instantly, barreling over towards them. Nolan ducked behind Stiles, afraid, which caused Isaac to stop in his tracks.

"I'm sorry," he said again, looking too much like a lost puppy as he stared at the young man hiding from him. "I…I didn't mean to…" Isaac trailed off, turning back away as Scott and Derek caught up to him. Scott wrapped an arm around him protectively, turning him back around so they could walk over to join the others.

"It's…ok," Nolan said, tentatively taking a step out from behind Stiles. "I guess…I…you just startled me is all. I, um, I don't have a good history with werewolves, so hanging out with you guys is still kind of new, and intimidating." The others laughed at that, and Isaac finally turned around to make eye contact with him.

"I'm sorry," Isaac said, wincing as he repeated the words. "I'm just…not quite myself yet. Werewolves aren't all bad, I promise."

"I know that," Nolan said simply, shrugging at the surprised expressions from some of the others. "You guys have shown me how wrong I was about you."

"Friends?" he added, holding a hand out for Isaac to shake.

"Friends," Isaac replied, grasping the hand with a small smile.

"Well, now that we have that out of the way," Stiles interjected, grabbing hold of Nolan and Scott and dragging them over to the wall, with Nolan dragging Isaac by their still clasped hands as Derek ambled behind at his own pace. "So, Nolan found a spot in the wall that isn't solid. There's a tunnel on the other side. There's magic here, I can feel it, but I don't know yet what it will do to us if we walk through it. But, so far, it's the only way forward that I can see."

"Then I guess we don't have much of a choice," Scott said, eyeing his friends carefully, "we'll have to go wherever it takes us."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Derek asked, groaning.

"Probably not," Stiles replied, shrugging at him.

"I don't care, I just want to get out of here," Isaac said, bouncing on his feet slightly in apprehension.

"Well then, let's go. Stick together everyone, and be careful," Scott said, gesturing for Stiles to show him where the tunnel entrance was. When he had, Scott led the way into it, followed immediately by Isaac and Nolan, who was still joined to him by the hand. Stiles watched them go with amusement before turning to Derek.

"Ready to embark on our next adventure in Hell, Sourwolf?" he asked.

Derek didn't answer, choosing to smile exasperatedly as he shook his head at the young man and entered the tunnel, Stiles bringing up the rear.


	14. Paradise Found

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Thanks again for reading so far! I have a few surprises in store for this and the upcoming couple of chapters that I hope you will enjoy. A special thank you to orionastro for your comment on the last chapter. I appreciate any feedback or encouragement you guys want to give!

Chapter 14: Paradise Found

"What was I thinking, this is even worse than the room without any doors," Isaac said, clutching tightly to the hand of his alpha in front of him and Nolan, who he was still half-dragging along behind him. The secret opening Nolan had discovered had led them into a narrow, pitch-black tunnel that was barely wide enough for them to fit through. The air was still and filled with dust, as though no one had ventured down this path in years.

"If you want, I can send you back to the living world," Stiles called out from his position at the back of the line. "We'd understand if you don't want to stay here."

"No," Isaac called back firmly, stopping to turn around even though he couldn't actually see Stiles, or anyone else, behind him. "I don't like it here, but I'm not leaving without you guys. I'm staying until it's time for all of us to go."

"Fair enough," Stiles replied, "But the offer still stands if you change your mind."

"Thanks Stiles," Isaac said quietly as he turned back around to continue following Scott down the tunnel. "You know, it's so weird to think of you having powers. The last time I saw you, you were still bringing a baseball bat to our supernatural fights."

"Hey now, that thing came in handy! I seem to remember it saving your supernatural butt when I used it to prop up that cellar next to the Nemeton," Stiles said, pretending to be offended.

"Yeah, yeah, I suppose I can let you have that one," Isaac retorted, unable to hide the humor in his voice.

"I don't know if you guys are crazy or brilliant," Nolan said, shaking his head to himself.

"I'm pretty sure Stiles is both," Scott said, joining the banter.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Stiles replied.

"I don't know Stiles, you also…" Isaac started before being interrupted.

"Stop," Stiles called out suddenly, bringing their group to a halt.

"What's wrong?" Derek whispered, feeling the tension building in the young man behind him.

"Something is happening," Stiles whispered back. "It's the magic I felt earlier, it's…changing."

"Changing how?" Nolan asked, worried. Before Stiles could reply, the tunnel answered for him. The darkness was replaced by a blinding white light, so bright they were all forced to close their eyes. When the light finally dissipated, they found themselves standing inside a narrow, wooden corridor that swung back and forth. Lanterns hung from the low ceiling, swinging with the motion of the corridor, and the smell of sea air permeated the area.

"We're in a boat," Derek said, placing a hand tentatively on a wooden wall next to him.

"More like the tunnel wants us to think we are in a boat," Stiles said, mimicking Derek's movements as he observed the wall himself.

"At least we have light again," Isaac said, turning back and forth to look at his friends.

"You're right," Stiles replied, smiling at him. "I suggest we take advantage of it and keep moving, because I'm pretty sure the magic in this place is going to keep changing the tunnel around us."

"That doesn't sound ominous at all," Nolan said, turning to look at Scott for direction.

"We have to keep moving," Scott said, also turning to continue leading the makeshift pack down the tunnel. The group trekked on in silence for a few minutes before Scott asked a question that had been bothering him for a while. "Hey Stiles," he called out to his friend in the back, "how did you know what to say to that creature back there? Do you know what it was?"

"No more than what it said it was," Stiles answered, "a pixie, right? That's what it called itself? Anyways, the demon inside me, that I took possession of, it was afraid of that thing. I could feel it trying, I guess, to guide the way I spoke to it. It was kind of a weird feeling, to be honest."

"But I thought you said you had complete control over the demon, that its consciousness had gone dormant or something," Derek said, confused and upset by this revelation. Stiles placed a hand on the older man's arm reassuringly, leaving it there just a tad longer than was actually necessary.

"Up until now it has been. I guess seeing the pixie scared it enough to want to take charge for a bit." They were forced to stop as another blinding white flash of light incapacitated them. When they could open their eyes again, this time they were in a corridor filled with lockers, similar to the high school, but without any doors or windows.

"Ugh," Nolan said, looking around at the new tunnel, "as if we weren't already in Hell."

"Finally!" Stiles called out with a long sigh, "someone agrees with me!" The rest of them just shook their heads in either amusement or exasperation. Derek alone didn't react, instead he stared thoughtfully at Stiles, as though both confused and worried by what Stiles had said. Stiles noticed the look, shaking his head almost imperceptibly in warning, which simply frustrated the wolf that much more. The group trudged on. Isaac, Scott, and Nolan became absorbed in conversation about some of the stuff that had happened in Isaac's absences (both when he left with Argent and after he had died). Derek slowed up slightly, enough so that the three in front of them would still be visible but far enough behind that he could talk to Stiles semi-privately.

"What's really going on?" Derek asked, looking over his shoulder briefly as he continued walking.

"Well, at the moment we're walking down a creepy hallway that keeps changing forms," Stiles replied, nonchalantly.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Derek huffed out through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, I know," Stiles said with a sigh. Neither of them spoke for another minute or two.

"I'm worried, Stiles," Derek finally said, breaking the silence. "You're keeping secrets from the rest of us, you've got that demon inside you that you know almost nothing about. How do I know I can still trust what you say and do?"

"Der," Stiles replied, catching the older man's hand and spinning him around to look at him properly. "This thing with the demon and the pixie, I admit it caught me off guard. But I'm still in control of the demon, I promise – all I did was let it prompt what I said to that weird creature, and its good I did, because it helped get us out of there. As for the…secrets…I don't like it any more than you do, but it's necessary for right now. I'll explain once we have everyone else together, I promise. You've trusted me this far, please give me just a few more days to prove to you its been worth it." Stiles looked up into the werewolf's eyes, squeezing his hand tightly to his chest with a silent plea.

"Well…I…" Derek began, slowly getting lost in the younger man's eyes, leaning forward slightly as he did so. They drew closer towards one another, slowly. Their faces were mere inches from one another. And then another blinding white flash of light hit, and they pulled apart in reaction to the intrusion. When the light, and their vision, cleared, they found themselves in a tunnel very reminiscent of the storm drains underneath Beacon Hills.

"Lovely," they heard Isaac mutter disdainfully from ahead of them.

"Hey, you guys ok back there?" Scott called out, just barely visible further down the tunnel. Stiles glanced at Derek briefly, searching for something before responding.

"Yeah, we're fine," he called back, tearing his gaze away from the older man. "Come on, wolfman, we should stick with the others."

Derek didn't respond, instead following after the young man as he led the way down the tunnel, once again lost in thought. _What is happening here? What is Stiles doing to me? There's no way we could ever…_

His train of thought was interrupted by Scott. "Hey guys, I think I found something."

-o-

"Mase, there's nothing here that used to belong to Nolan," Corey said in exasperation. He and Mason had quickly and roughly searched through every locker in the room. Most were empty, and the few that were not only contained backpacks or clothes that were obviously recently put there.

"Yeah, you're right," Mason replied, much more thoughtfully.

"Where do you think we should search next? We don't have enough time to look through this whole place," Corey's eyes darted around to the monitors on the wall showing what was going on outside the shed. The guards had broken into groups to search the woods for their "attackers," but Corey and Mason both knew that the ruse would only last so long.

"Alright, let's think this through," Mason said, turning to lean against the nearest locker as he also watched the monitors. "We know, according to Nolan, that he left a bunch of stuff here when he tried to escape Beacon Hills."

"And we know that Monroe's people killed him before he could even make it out of the Preserve," Corey added with a severe expression on his face. "We also know that was almost two years ago. They could have thrown everything away by now."

Mason's face lit up as Corey finished his sentence. "That's it!" he exclaimed, dragging his boyfriend away from the main room and into one of the side chambers.

"What's it?" Corey asked, confused.

"Monroe's hunters began using this outpost again, probably rather recently by the looks of things. After sitting empty for so long, they would have had to clean everything out. But, it's not like they have trash service out here, and with the way Monroe is, I doubt she'd be willing to get rid of anything that could be tied back to her."

"So, what does that have to do with Nolan's stuff?" Corey asked, even more confused.

"They would have put it in the trash!" Mason half-shouted triumphantly.

"And you're excited about that because…"

"Because it means I know where to find what we need," Mason said, grinning as he led Corey into the kitchen.

"Oh, of course," Corey said as comprehension dawned on him. "It's a hunter's outpost, so there's a trash room for all the stuff they don't need but can't just throw in the regular garbage."

"Exactly," Mason replied happily, finding a door off of the kitchen that led to the room in question. "Of course," he added, looking in at the piles of stuff close to spilling out of the closet, "that doesn't mean it's going to be easy."

"At least we're on the right track," Corey said, grimacing slightly at the piles of junk.

"Let's get digging," Mason said, rolling up his sleeves as he stepped forward into the mess.

-o-

"It's a hatch," Derek said, unenthusiastically.

"It's a way out of here," Isaac chastised him with a look.

"It could be nothing," Stiles said, getting dirty looks from all of them.

"What if it's a trap?" Nolan asked, tentatively.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Scott said, shushing them all with his determined expression as he climbed the ladder up to the hatch. There was a rusty handle attached to the underside, apparently unused for years. Scott struggled with it, slowly getting it to budge with werewolf strength. He pushed the hatch open and they were hit by the same blinding white light as before, though this time it didn't dissipate. The group waited a minute or two for their eyes to adjust. Scott was the first to react. "Whoa, guys you won't believe this. You gotta get up here."

The others quickly climbed up the ladder to follow Scott, emerging onto a breathtaking tropical island. The air smelled crisp and fresh, better than anything they had encountered in Limbo. The sounds of a slight breeze and the ocean breaking against a sandy beach surrounded them, and in the distance they could see seagulls flocking into the palm trees dotting the landscape.

"Finally, no more underground tunnels and rooms with no doors," Isaac said, happily breathing in deeply.

"I don't believe it," Nolan said, eyes darting around fervently in wonder.

"I don't either," Stiles said, much more critically. He got a few wary looks at his pronouncement, but before anyone could ask him about it, a new voice interrupted them.

"Hey guys! You finally made it!" The group turned as one to look at a section of beach behind them. Running towards them was Brett, wearing nothing but a skin-tight speedo that left little to the imagination as he bounded, and bounced, over to join them. The five pack members stared at him with varying amounts of confusion, wonder, and just a tinge of lust as he came to a stop with a wide grin. "I was beginning to think you all had changed your minds and were going to just leave me and Lori here by ourselves."

"Um, what are you talking about?" Stiles asked as the others looked around at one another, more confused than ever.

Brett sighed in exasperation. "Come on, we've been planning this trip for months," he said, as though this should be obvious, turning to lead the way back down to the area of the beach he had come from. The group could see Lori off in the distance, waving enthusiastically from a pair of lounge chairs set up near the ocean. "We all said, once the war was over, that we needed to take a vacation. And now, here we are. Although," he added, looking back over his shoulder at them, "you guys should have brought swimming trunks or something. You look ridiculous."

They all studied their clothing for the first time, and were forced to agree with him. Each of them was filthy, covered in dust and dirt from their time in the tunnels. Their clothes were torn in places, and Derek's shirt had a giant gash in it from the run-in with Belasko. Dressed for a fun time at the beach they were not.

"Hi everyone, I'm so glad you made it!" Lori said, looking up from her chair where she clearly had been sunbathing as they arrived. Like Brett, her bikini left little to the imagination.

"So, stupid question, but…where are we?" Stiles asked, eyes darting between the siblings.

"We're on the island of Tahiti, obviously," Brett answered, rolling his eyes as he plopped down on the empty lounge chair.

"It's a magical place," Lori added, almost instinctively. The five others shared a look amongst themselves.

"We'll be right back," Scott said, motioning for the others to follow him as he spoke.

"Hey, if you're going to the refreshment stand, bring me back another of these little umbrella drinks," Brett said, waving an empty glass at his quickly retreating friends without a care in the world, "they're delicious!"

"Yeah, buddy, we'll do that," Stiles replied, shaking his head before turning to follow Scott up a nearby sand dune towards a grassy patch out of earshot of the wolves on the beach.

"What…in the world…is going on with them?" Derek asked, staring at the siblings with severe trepidation.

"Who are they?" Isaac asked nervously. Scott quickly filled him in on how they had first met Brett and Lori and what had eventually happened to them at the hands of Monroe.

"So, back to the original question…what is going on here?" Derek asked again, once Scott was finished.

"Do you have any ideas, Stiles?" Scott asked, turning to his friend.

"Why is it always me that has to have the ideas?" Stiles cried out, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to look affronted. None of them were fooled, and just stared at him until he gave in. "Fine," he said, throwing his hands in the air as they all grinned. "Here's my guess. Obviously, we're still in the Underworld, there's no way we climbed out of a storm drain in Hell onto the island of Tahiti. Like I said before, not everything in Limbo is bad – although we seem to not be having much luck finding the good places. Anyways, this must be one of the good ones. The real question is why Brett and Lori think they are on vacation instead of, well, dead."

"I think I can answer that," a new voice said, causing all five of them to jump half out of their skin.

"Who are you?" "Where did you come from!" "What are you doing here?" and other questions all immediately rang through the group.

"Calm down, and I will tell you," Noshiko Yukimura said sternly, holding a hand up to silence them as she emerged from the thicket of trees behind them. The group immediately did so. "I've been searching for Kira. I lost the trail in the tunnels, and eventually I found myself here on this island."

"Oh, was she taken by the demons too?" Stiles asked, intrigued.

"No," Noshiko answered sternly, giving him a wary glance before continuing. "She is still with the Skinwalkers. But I lost where they went in the explosion that killed us, and I haven't been able to catch up with them since."

"I'm confused," Isaac said, nervously. Nolan nodded his head next to him in agreement.

Noshiko sighed. "The Skinwalkers travel between the worlds regularly. For them, being alive or dead makes little difference. But being dead changes things dramatically for us kitsunes. I want to find my daughter, to be with her and teach her here. And then we have some unfinished business to take care of."

"That makes sense," Stiles said, nodding knowingly.

"What part of that makes sense to you?" Derek questioned, turning to look at the young man incredulously.

"That's one of those things I'll have to explain later," Stiles replied, grimacing at the stern look the older man gave in response.

"That is true," Noshiko interjected, "because, if I am right, you are running out of time to save your friends over there." She finished by pointing at the wolves lounging on the beach.

"What do you mean? What's going on?" Scott asked, worried.

"It is the nature of this island. I have heard stories about it, here in the Underworld," Noshiko spoke, a severity in her tone that put them all on edge. "It's one of several places here that the demons use to erase or alter the memories of the people who anger them."

"They punish people by sending them to an island paradise?" Nolan asked, incredulously.

"The island keeps them pliant, so they don't fight back. The punishment is that they will eventually lose all sense of themselves and become brainwashed to do the demon's bidding. They will either become demons themselves, or they will become slave creatures, like the Hellhounds," Noshiko answered.

"Oh…yeah, that's pretty bad," Nolan said in response. The others exchanged looks with one another.

"So what do we need to do to stop that from happening?" Scott asked.

"I…don't know," Noshiko said, hesitantly.

"What do you mean? You have to know!" Scott cried out.

"I am old. I am not all-knowing," she replied with a stern expression on her face.

"What if its like the suicide pit?" Stiles asked, wincing at the look Scott gave him. "Just hear me out, alright? When Derek and I found you, the demons had you trapped in your worst memories. They were torturing you. But we were eventually able to break you free of it by showing you happier memories and getting you to focus on your connections to the Pack."

"You were in the suicide pit?" Isaac asked, turning to Scott with a lost-puppy look. Scott nodded, clearly pained by the reminder.

"But you were able to use the machine there to show Scott his memories," Derek interjected. "How do we do that for Brett and Lori here if there's no machine?"

"Well, we just have to remind them the old-fashioned way," Stiles said, a determined expression on his face that left no room for argument. He quickly spun on his heel and led the way back down towards the beach where the werewolf siblings were lounging.

-o-

It was an odd group. If anyone were to accidentally observe what was happening, it would be obvious that something was very wrong. Unfortunately for the young werewolf at the center of the group, they were in a nearly deserted section of Limbo. The only people in these parts were ones who had to be.

"How long are we going to have to keep this up?" one of the others called out, struggling to maintain his grip on the writhing boy in the center of their group.

"Yeah, this is ridiculous! Can't we just knock him out or something? I can't hold on much longer," another shouted over the snarls coming from their captive. The others nodded in agreement vigorously.

"The entrance…is just…a little…further," Severo huffed out, leading the way as he helped drag their new prisoner forward.

"You can't do this to me! I'll get out! Just you wait and see!" the young wolf shouted furiously as he struggled against the ones who had caught him.

"Just shut up already!" Severo cried out, "the Alpha will not be pleased if you make a huge ruckus."

"The Alpha?" the young wolf asked, going still for a moment.

"Yes," Severo replied, "he's looking forward to seeing you."

"I don't believe you!" the other shouted, trying to jerk his arms out of the grips of the ones holding onto him. The group slowly trudged on, towards the secret entrance in question. As they got closer, more of the pack noticed their approach and came to assist. With the added muscle, Severo let go of the young wolf, taking the head of the group and leading the way into the Alpha's den.

"My lord," Severo said as he approached the dais where Gerard and his lieutenants stood waiting, bowing low as he did so.

"I trust you have good news for me, Severo," Gerard said disdainfully, watching the beta wolf out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes sir. We…we've found the one you wanted…Scott's beta, Liam Dunbar," Severo replied nervously as the group of wolves dragged the young man into the room kicking and screaming.

"You're the alpha?!" Liam cried out, once he was close enough to see who Severo was talking to.

"Oh yes," Gerard replied, turning to face the young wolf properly. "Welcome to the den of the Argent Pack, Liam. Take a good look around, because I daresay it is the last thing you will ever see in this world. Your precious alpha, Scott, can't save you here."


	15. Paradise Lost

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi everyone! So, I took a bit of a break from this story to work on my Les Miserables story, but I'm back now. I'll probably alternate back and forth between the two periodically. A special thank you to MarkK1Johnson for your review on the last chapter! Reviews, comments, favorites, follows are all very appreciated and part of the motivation behind me finding the time to continue writing this crazy story. Hope you all enjoy this next installment!

Chapter 15: Paradise Lost

"Do you actually have a plan here, Stiles, or are you literally making this up as you go along?" Derek called out as he ran to catch up with the young man quickly heading back to the werewolf siblings.

"I do have a plan. Two, actually," Stiles replied, catching a couple of the people following him off guard. "Plan A is we tell them about what actually happened, remind them of their deaths and their connections to the pack, and hope that will bring them out of the hold this island has on them."

"And what's plan B?" Isaac asked, his eyes alight with curiosity as he caught up to his packmate.

"Scott uses his alpha werewolf claws to force the right memories to surface and we hope that joining minds doesn't affect him or cause any problems," Stiles said with a grimace.

"Yeah, my vote is for plan A," Scott said, also catching up as Stiles and the others slowed down and approached the lounging werewolves.

"Hey, did you guys find the refreshment stand?" Brett asked, opening his eyes to glance at them briefly as they rejoined him.

"No, but we found Mrs. Yukimura," Stiles answered, drawing attention to the older woman.

"That's cool too I suppose," Brett said, shrugging his shoulders as he sat up, noticing the serious expressions on all of their faces. "Why do I get the feeling you've got bad news?" Lori's attention was also drawn in at this point, and she mirrored her brother's actions.

"Because…we've got some bad news," Stiles said with another grimace before glancing over at Scott.

"What do you guys remember about the fight with Monroe?" Scott asked, taking the lead in the discussion.

"Not a lot, to be honest," Lori answered for the both of them. "Monroe was trying to hunt down any Supernatural creatures she could find. But we stopped her, right?"

"No, we didn't," Scott said, wincing at the thought.

"Is that why you're here? Do you want our help fighting her?" Brett asked. As he did so, the sky grew slightly darker. It went largely unnoticed by all but Stiles.

"Yes, sort of," Stiles interjected. "We need your help to defeat her, but there are a couple of problems we have to take care of first."

"Ok, what would that be?" Lori asked.

"Well…the big one is that you're dead. Actually, all of us are," Stiles replied. "But we're working on changing that." Brett and Lori both stared at him for a moment in disbelief, before Brett finally collapsed into laughter while his sister clearly tried to prevent herself from doing the same.

"We're…all…dead," Brett said between laughs, struggling to get the words out. "We can't be dead! I'm pretty sure I would remember if I died."

"Think back," Scott jumped in. "You were in the woods, and Monroe shot you with a wolfsbane arrow." The laughter faded away as Brett listened to Scott, closing his eyes as he thought. The sky grew slightly darker again, this time noticed by most of the Pack.

"I…remember that…I was being chased. I got shot. I had to get the arrow out…But then I kept running, and I left clues for Lori to find me," Brett said slowly, eyes still closed as he concentrated on finding the memories. Lori nodded along in agreement next to him. "But…I couldn't have died, Liam showed up and helped us to escape." The sky brightened once more, as though the sun had come back out from behind a cloud, much to the others chagrin.

"Brett," Stiles said, gaining the other's attention as he switched tactics, "I want you to listen to my heartbeat while I tell you this, so you know it's the truth. We…are…all…dead." Brett scrunched his nose up in concentration as he listened, or tried to listen. His eyes popped open suddenly and the sky darkened once more.

"You don't have a heartbeat," he said incredulously, a look of fear on his face. "How is that possible? Only well trained werewolves should have the ability to mask their heartbeat."

"There's only one explanation," Stiles answered gravely. "And you know what it is." Brett looked near panicking as he turned, wide-eyed, to each of the other people present, trying to listen for their heartbeats but unable to find any. Finally, he turned to Lori, who had tears glistening in her eyes.

"You don't have one either," she said as she drew him in close to herself in a tight hug. As the two siblings clung to one another, the sky faded the rest of the way to the drab gray of Limbo, the island and its vegetation fading into rock walls and outcroppings. Bloodstained clothes formed on the two wolves as they began to pull apart.

"I still…I don't remember what happened. How did we die?" Brett asked, turning to face Scott once again.

"We were down in the storm drains under the city, trying to find you," he answered carefully, eyes darting back to the manhole cover above the tunnel that had led them to this place. "I got injured, and Liam and Lori went on ahead. We didn't realize it was all a trap until it was too late, and you both were hit by a truck when you climbed out of the drains."

"Oh…I'm sorry," Brett finally replied after a tense moment of silence. "I shouldn't have put you guys in danger, especially you." This last part was directed at his sister, who simply shook her head.

"If you're in danger, then so am I. We're in this together, no matter what," she said, staring at him with a fierce determination in her eyes.

"So, what now?" Brett asked as he turned to take in the change in their surroundings with a forlorn expression on his face. Scott, Stiles, and Derek quickly filled them, and Noshiko, in on their plans for finding and bringing the Pack back to life.

"Do we count in that? I mean, we were part of Satomi's pack, not yours," Lori asked when they were finished, glancing back and forth between the various people present.

"I think so," Stiles answered as several pairs of eyes automatically turned to him anyway. "We've already got markers set up for you both in the real world. I don't know all the ins and outs of how this works, but I'm reasonably confident that friends of the Pack, or allies, can be included. But its ultimately up to you guys, we won't force you to go if you don't want to risk it, and I don't know what will happen if we try it and something goes wrong."

"I think…we would like to be a part of your Pack, officially," Brett answered for the both of them, "and help you take down Monroe once and for all. I know Satomi would understand."

"Yeah…we actually ran into her a little while ago," Stiles said with an air of nonchalance, grinning at the surprised expressions on both the siblings and also Isaac and Noshiko. "She seemed pretty set on getting revenge on the people who murdered her pack."

"That is very surprising," Noshiko said, speaking for the first time since the group had rejoined the siblings. "Satomi was always very careful and strove for nonviolence."

"I guess watching everyone you care about die and then dying yourself changes things," Stiles replied with a shrug.

"What about you, Mrs. Yukimura? Will you join us too?" Scott asked carefully.

"I do not know how wise it would be for me to return to the land of the living," she answered, equally carefully. "But I will give it some thought. Since you are looking for your Pack, I assume that includes my Kira." She said this last part more as a question then a statement, and Scott immediately responded by nodding his head. "Then I will accompany you, as we stand a better chance of finding her and freeing her from the Skinwalkers together. However, I have one other task I must complete while I am here in Limbo as well."

"The unfinished business you mentioned earlier," Stiles interjected, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual and tinged with fear. She nodded at him with severity.

"The Oni and the Nogitsune," she said calmly, ignoring the shudders that went through most of the people present. "They will be here in Limbo somewhere too, and we will be drawn to one another because of our connection in life. I must finish what I started and send them from this realm."

"So its settled then," Stiles said, a false sense of cheerfulness trying to mask his real feelings. "All of us," he added with emphasis, making eye contact with each in turn, "will head out together, looking for our Pack members. And if we happen to run into Skinwalkers or Oni or…evil spirits…we'll fight them together. Agreed?" The looks he received were not unanimous. Nolan was the picture of confusion while Isaac and Scott both looked to be in physical pain. Brett and Lori both looked fearful, while Noshiko was stoic and set. Derek remained impassive, trying to hide his emotions, though Stiles could see the worry underneath the façade. They were all, however, in agreement with the idea, each nodding their head or in some other way showing that they were committed to this plan.

"Alright then," Scott said, taking charge once more, "let's go find our friends."

-o-

"There is so much stuff here. This is so wasteful," Corey muttered under his breath while he tried to climb over another pile of junk to get to one he had not yet gone through.

"Yeah, I agree. These hunters could definitely stand a few lessons in recycling," Mason replied from a corner of the closet where he was buried waist deep in the mess. "It's too bad we don't have one of the wolves with us. Then they could just locate Nolan's scent on something and we'd be out of here."

"Yeah, well, all the wolves we know are still dead at the moment, so no luck there," Corey said with a huff.

"I wonder if they've had any luck finding the rest of the Pack," Mason added as he stopped to catch his breath and survey his surroundings.

"I hope so. They need to hurry up and send some more people back to life so that _they_ can handle the next mission that leads us to the trash heap in the middle of a hunter's outpost," Corey retorted, clearly frustrated.

"Cor, it's ok. Why don't you stop for a moment," Mason replied, keeping his voice calm and gentle.

"Yeah, alright," Corey said, a tone of defeat in his voice. He plopped down on a pile of clothes and watched as Mason returned to digging through several shelves of damaged weaponry and electronics. Becoming bored with that, he allowed his eyes to slowly scan over the rest of the cramped space. "Hey, Mason," he began, quietly but with excitement, "Is that…that's not Nolan's backpack is it?" He pointed at the article in question, not daring to get his hopes up.

"It certainly looks like it," Mason said, equally cautious. He clambered over the mounds of debris to reach it, pausing once he did so as though afraid to find out if it actually belonged to the young man in question or not. Taking a deep breath, he quickly grabbed the backpack and unzipped it, finding Nolan's lacrosse jersey and a couple of books inside. "It is! It's Nolan's! Corey, we've found it!" Mason turned excitedly towards his boyfriend.

"Shh, not so loud!" Corey hissed, gesturing wildly as he scrambled to reach Mason.

"Sorry," Mason said sheepishly, still grinning in spite of the reprimand.

"No worries, I'm excited too, but we still gotta make sure we get out of here without being caught," Corey said, an edge to his voice that grounded Mason back to reality.

"You're right. We've got what we came for, now let's get out of here," Mason finished, taking ahold of Corey's hand so that the chimera could plunge them both into invisibility once more. They plowed their way through the mounds of debris and through the door that led them back into the kitchen, pausing to listen for signs that the hunters had come back inside the tool shed. As far as the two could tell, they were still alone. "Hey Corey," Mason began, eyes scanning over the kitchen.

"What?" Corey whispered, much more nervously.

"While we're here, maybe we should see if they have any extra supplies. If the entire Pack are all coming back to life, we're going to need more food and stuff than just what's there in the clearing," Mason continued, lowering his voice to the point that Corey would need his supernatural hearing to listen.

"I suppose that's a good idea, but won't the hunters get suspicious?" Corey asked.

"We'll be careful not to take too much, and try not to leave any gaps in the pantry shelves," Mason replied, already dragging his boyfriend over towards the nearest cupboard. Corey didn't respond, instead simply allowing himself to be tugged forwards and holding open Nolan's backpack as Mason quickly filled it full of canned goods and other assorted items that he figured the hunters wouldn't miss for awhile. They had just finished filling the backpack and zipping it back up when they were stopped dead in their tracks.

"I swear, there's something going on here that ain't right," a man said from the room with the computer monitors and lockers.

"I don't disagree," another man said, calmer than the first, "but surely there must be a logical explanation for what just happened."

"A logical explanation? Renfield's grenades just somehow blow a couple o' craters outside the camp while he's sittin' there listenin' to that stupid gadget of his. We're lucky we weren't all blown to kingdom come! So, you tell me, what's the logical explanation in that?" the first man retorted. Corey and Mason stared at one another in horror as they slowly crept closer to the door.

"I'm not sure…yet," the second man answered, voice still calm and almost contemplative. "There's more to this, I'm sure of it. There's something we're not seeing, or perhaps someone."

Corey gulped involuntarily at that pronouncement. "What are we going to do?" he whispered to Mason, eyes wide with fear.

"Don't panic, we'll think of something," Mason whispered back, hoping Corey wouldn't be able to hear the fear in his voice. They were trapped.

-o-

"So, I am a little curious Scott," Brett began cautiously as the group slowly made their way to what appeared to be an opening in the cave wall. Scott, Stiles, and Derek led the way, with Isaac and Nolan tucked closely behind them. Noshiko followed a couple of paces behind and to the right while Brett and Lori followed from the other side.

"Mmm, about what?" Scott asked, glancing over his shoulder to the taller wolf.

"How did Liam's lacrosse teammate become part of your pack?" Brett asked, shifting his gaze to rest on Nolan, who squirmed at having the spotlight put on him.

"That's a bit of a long story," Scott answered cautiously, also glancing at the boy in question.

"I used to work with Monroe," Nolan took over with a sigh, staring at the ground as they continued walking, not daring to make eye contact with anyone. "I was convinced, like everyone else, that the supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills were trying to destroy us, and that we needed to fight back. And I was desperate to have someone, anyone, to just be my friend. I hurt a lot of people in the process too."

"That…doesn't answer my question," Brett eventually said when it seemed like Nolan was finished speaking.

Scott picked up telling the story with another quick glance at their youngest member. "What Nolan left out is that not all of that was his fault. There was another creature, called the Anuk-Ite, which had the power to cause the people around it to panic. It created a lot of the fear that Monroe and Gerard used to get people to join the hunters. Nolan eventually had a change of heart and helped us to defeat the Anuk-Ite. But we lost track of him not long after that."

"I ran away and tried to hide. It didn't matter much, not long afterwards Monroe's hunters found me and killed me," Nolan finished.

"And then we found him here, or he found us I suppose," Stiles chipped in, much more energetically than the others. "And we decided that he's too adorable to leave all by his lonesome, so now he's one of us. Officially and everything."

"Works for me," Brett said, chuckling slightly at Stiles' description and the blush that appeared on Nolan's cheeks immediately afterwards. They fell back into silence after that as they reached the opening in the rock wall.

"That is very dark," Lori observed as they peered inside.

"And it looks kind of narrow," Isaac added, nervously shuffling closer to Stiles.

"I don't think we have much of a choice though guys, it's the only way out of here that I can see," Scott finished, making eye contact with each of them in turn.

"I can give us some light, if that's what you are all concerned about," Mrs. Yukimura said with a sigh as she stepped forward. She withdrew her sword, rapidly saying a few words in Japanese as she did so, before immediately being enveloped with a bright yellow glow. The group all gasped, but she merely rolled her eyes at them. "I am a celestial kitsune. Creating light is what I do. Now, if you are finished, let's go." She quickly turned and began heading into the tunnel, not waiting for a response. Scott followed almost immediately, leaving the rest little choice but to follow.

The tunnel they entered was winding and narrow. The Pack was soon reduced to walking single file, Noshiko leading the way with Stiles bringing up the rear. Derek found himself sandwiched between Isaac and Stiles, which he took comfort in, clasping Isaac on the shoulder as Stiles held his hand from behind. The group walked for quite some time before Noshiko stopped and called out from the front. "We have reached a dead end, the tunnel does not continue," she said calmly, though with obvious frustration.

"Try walking through the wall," Stiles called out from the rear. "They aren't always solid." He received no response, but a moment later the tunnel was plunged in absolute darkness. "I guess that means it worked," he said, trying to alleviate the sudden tension in his friends.

"Alright, everyone else, let's go through too," Scott called back. A round of affirmatives echoed behind him. The Pack pushed forward, until finally Isaac, Derek, and Stiles pressed through the seemingly solid wall together. They found themselves in a large, circular room with several doors dotted along the walls. A few of the Pack members shared nervous glances with one another because it looked eerily similar to the room at the top of Isaac's basement stairs where they met the Pixie.

"Greetings, weary travelers," a low voice said from a spot near the floor. They were all startled and quickly formed up close to one another for protection. The voice, which belonged to a small, weird looking creature that had appeared in the center of the room, continued on in a bored drawl as though not noticing the chaos it had caused. "And welcome to the Portcullis of Purgatorium."

"Who…who are you?" Stiles asked, recovering first and stepping forward slightly.

"I am Awarnach the Dwarf, keeper of the Portcullis of Purgatorium," the creature answered. It was even shorter than the Pixie had been, with skin a dull gray that blended into the color of the cave walls. It wore equally drab shirt and pants that were the color of the dirt floor. The creature looked completely unremarkable and blended into the room enough that he was difficult to see even when staring directly at him.

"And, what exactly is this…Portcullis?" Derek asked, the next one of the group to have recovered his voice.

"The Portcullis of Purgatorium is an ancient and mystical portion of the Underworld," Awarnach answered as though reciting a speech he had given countless times before. "It chooses travelers to make itself known to in order to aid them on their quest, whatever that may be. Before you are a series of doors. Each door is a portal to another point in the Underworld, presumably where someone or something that you are looking for can be found."

"Really? These doors can take us wherever we want to go?" Scott interjected, stepping forward to join Stiles with a look of excitement on his face.

"Yes and no," Awarnach said, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. "The Portcullis does not take people anywhere they want. It can see what it is you are looking for, and it can take you to the place you need to be to find it. But it will not do so lightly. You must pass the Portcullis' tests if you wish to accept its aid on your journey."

"What's the test?" Scott asked, enthusiasm fading away.

"Each door you wish to enter will be locked with a clue. If you can figure out the clue, it will tell you who or what lies beyond the door, and who within your party must be the one to open it. The correct person must call out the name of the person or object you seek when opening the door. Choose wisely, because if the wrong person opens the door, or if you call out the wrong name when you do so, you will be led, not to that which you seek, but to the fiery heart of the Underworld, from which there can be no escape."

"That…is a lot to take in," Scott replied, sharing a look with Derek and Stiles.

"We are looking for some friends of ours," Stiles said, taking charge once more. "If I understood you correctly, these doors can take us to them, as long as we can figure out which one of us is supposed to open them. Correct?"

"Yes, young traveler, that is correct," Awarnach answered, his bored tone returning.

"What if we are unable to figure out who the correct person is to open the door?" Stiles asked.

"Then I suggest you do nothing, as only certain destruction awaits those who fail the test," Awarnach answered again, though with the first signs of excitement in his voice.

"Is it possible to just leave the Portcullis and return to seeking our friends out on our own?" Derek prodded, trying to assess all the variables in their new predicament.

"No," Awarnach replied with finality. "The Portcullis is a wise and sentient force. It has seen your desperation and wishes to aid you on your quest, and thus it has chosen to appear to you. It does not do this without purpose, and therefore its gift of assistance is not one you can reject, however much you may think you wish to do so. You will not be able to progress from this room apart from the ways in which the Portcullis provides for you."

"And those would be the doors with riddles that might lead us to our friends if we can figure out the clues, but could just as easily lead to our destruction" Stiles said, a note of sarcasm in his voice. Awarnach simply nodded in reply. "Wonderful, this should be loads of fun," he said, turning towards his friends.

"What do you think we should do?" Scott asked, also turning towards their gathered Packmates and forming a tight circle.

"This dwarf guy looks pretty small and weak, we can take him no problem, maybe get some better answers that way," Brett said, staring at the diminutive creature in the center of the room.

"I don't think that's a good idea. My demon isn't worried about him the way it was with the Pixie we met earlier, but its been my experience so far that its not a good idea to upset the creatures who run things in Limbo if you can avoid it," Stiles interjected. Noting the looks the siblings and Noshiko gave him, Stiles quickly filled them in on what had happened earlier.

"Ok, so we don't attack him. Does that mean we have to play his game?" Derek asked.

"I don't see an alternative option available to us," Noshiko answered grimly, straightening as she did so.

"I think we should at least try it, for now that seems to be our best bet. If we decide we can't figure out the riddle, then we can try to come up with a new plan for what to do instead," Scott finished, also straightening and turning back to the dwarf. The others nodded in agreement, forming a close semi-circle. "Alright, we're ready. What's the first riddle?" Scott asked. The dwarf's eyes lit up as he led them to the door directly across from them.


	16. Behind Closed Doors

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi everyone. We've reached a section of the story (here through about chapter 20 or so) that I've both been really looking forward to and also really dreading writing, because there are a lot of important plot points going on and I want to do the story justice while still making it entertaining. I'll be the first to admit that poetry and riddles are not my strong suit (you'll see in a little bit what I'm talking about), so bonus points if you can solve the riddles before the McCall Pack can! Anyways, hope you enjoy this next installment, and let me know what you think.

Chapter 16: Behind Closed Doors

The dwarf led them to one of the doors and gathered them together in another tight-knit semi-circle. "I will now demonstrate how to receive the riddle from the door," Awarnach stated pompously. "Listen closely, as the door will only speak once and will give you no further clues or insight when it has finished. Nor can you switch to a different door once the clue has been given – the others will remain silent until you solve the clue or perish. I also cannot assist you, so once you have the first clue, I will leave you and the Portcullis on your own."

"I thought you said the only way out of here was to solve the riddles," Stiles interjected, surprised.

"That is the only way out for _you,_ " Awarnach replied with disdain, "I am the Keeper of the Portcullis, and may move about freely through this realm."

"Ok, so no outside help, we can only hear the riddle once, and we are stuck here unless we can solve it. Anything else?" Derek hastily said before Stiles could interject again.

"No, that covers it. Now, watch closely," Awarnach said, turning to stand directly in front of the door before them. He held out his right hand, tapping his knuckles on the surface of the door three times before taking a couple of steps back. At first, nothing happened, and the silence in the room felt deafening. Then, to the amazement of all of the Pack members present, a face emerged on the surface of the door, distinctly masculine features covered by the wood grain. The face yawned widely, eyes roaming over each of the people present in turn.

"I am the first of your challenges, though hopefully not your last," the face on the door spoke, voice deep and commanding. "My brothers and I are six in number, here to help you on your quest. We wish you well. Listen closely to my riddle and determine who lies beyond my threshold and which of your number must be the one to unlock the way. Are you ready?"

Scott took a moment to glance at each of his friends before stepping forward towards the door. "Yes, we're ready," he said, determination ringing through the air. The door nodded once at him in recognition before speaking.

"I am the neighbor, aloof and carefree; though I open for pain that none can see; across the street and a world away; only on the surface are we as night and day," the door said, pausing briefly between each phrase. When it had finished the door whispered, "choose wisely," before the face receded back into the wood and the surface returned to looking like a normal door.

"That's it? Really? Come on, we need a few more details than that," Brett exclaimed, breaking the silence that had descended after the door's face disappeared. But the door did not respond, remaining still and silent as ever. "Awarnach, you've got to give us some help here," Brett added, turning to where the dwarf had stood, but he too had disappeared.

"He's gone," Lori exclaimed, noticing the absence of the diminutive creature first and glancing furtively around the room in an attempt to find him.

"He said he wouldn't stick around," Stiles said with a shrug, eyes going unfocused as he continued to stare at the door. "We'll have to work with what we've been given."

"Which is what, exactly?" Derek asked, frowning at the younger man.

"The gist of the riddle seems to be that the two people involved are different on the surface but the same inside," Stiles answered, and the group could see the wheels turning in his head.

"I think you're right," Nolan piped up, shrinking inwards at the attentiveness he received as a result. "The first person – the one on the other side of the door – appears on the outside to be carefree while the second person – one of us – is in pain. But inwardly, they are actually the same."

"It's got to be Allison," Scott said definitively.

"And why does it have to be Allison?" Stiles asked with a groan.

"Because, I mean, that's the way she was, don't you think? On the outside, she and I were totally different. I'm a werewolf, she's a hunter. She was always confident and carefree and I was always in pain. But on the inside we were the same, and we were in love," Scott said, a slightly dreamy and wistful expression taking over his features.

"I think you're stretching things just a bit, but you have a point," Stiles said, grimacing at the idea. "Well, more like half a point. But we've only got one chance at this, so we need to make sure we're right."

"And there are parts of the riddle that don't fit you and Allison," Derek added before Scott could say anything. "The part about being neighbors, for example," he continued, seeing the confusion on several faces.

"I figured that was just, you know, poetic license," Scott countered.

"But it could have been meant more literally, and you and Allison didn't live anywhere near each other," Derek retorted. The two of them looked like they were about to get into a heated discussion when Isaac interjected.

"It's Jackson," he said quietly, almost unnoticeably. The faraway look in his eyes caught the attention of the other people present more than the words themselves.

"Why do you think it's Jackson?" Scott asked, cautiously. Isaac didn't immediately respond, instead taking a moment to compose himself as a whirlwind of thoughts seemingly flew through his head.

"It all fits," he finally said simply. "Jackson lived just across the street from me, we _were_ neighbors, essentially. But, like the riddle said, at first he might as well have been a world away, because we were totally different from one another and living totally different lives. And, growing up, he was always aloof and carefree while, especially after my mom and brother passed away, I was living in a world of pain that no one else could see." He stopped at that point, looking completely lost at the pronouncement. Stiles and Derek simultaneously reached out for him, each clasping him on a shoulder. Isaac leaned into the touch, gaining both comfort and confidence to continue.

"After the whole Kanima thing and the Nogitsune, when Jackson went to London and I went to Paris with Argent, Jackson and I became friends. We would run into each other on occasion or talk on the phone and stuff. And we learned that we aren't so different from one another after all, just dealing with different kinds of pain. Jackson at one point even said that line from the riddle, we're only night and day on the surface, inside we're the same."

"Well, I'm convinced," Brett said once Isaac was finished.

"Yes, your logic seems sound," Noshiko added, while Lori nodded her head.

"Ok, you're right, that makes more sense than Allison," Scott relented as he took in the expressions of everyone around him. "But like Stiles said, we only get one shot at this. So, does everyone agree that the riddle is about Isaac and Jackson?" It took a moment, but eventually everyone nodded or gave a thumbs up. "Alright then, we're in this together. Go ahead, Isaac."

The younger wolf gazed at his alpha with uncertainty for just a moment before mustering up the courage to walk towards the door. As he did so, the face reemerged, though its expression remained blank. "Have you solved my riddle?" it asked.

"Yes," Isaac said, standing directly in front of the door.

"Very well," the door replied. "Say the name of the person you believe lies beyond my portal as you turn the knob and open the door. If you are correct, you and your friends will be taken directly to where that person is in Limbo. If you are wrong, you will all instead be taken to Lord Cerberus' fiery domain in the heart of the Underworld."

Isaac gulped at the pronouncement, turning back to look at Scott and the others with uncertainty. Scott nodded encouragingly while Stiles and Derek both moved forward to join the young wolf. "We're in this together, no matter what," Stiles said as Derek rumbled in agreement.

"Ok," Isaac replied, stepping forward to reach out and grasp the doorknob. "Jackson Whittemore," he said, rather louder than was strictly necessary, as he turned the knob and pushed open the door. The faintest hint of a smile appeared on the door's face as it receded into the woodgrain once more. The door swung open, casting the room and its occupants in a blinding flash of white light. The group were catapulted forward, through the door and into the light, freefalling towards what lay beyond. They landed in a heap, regaining their senses as the light dissipated to show them their surroundings.

The first thing that hit all of them was the wall of sound. It came all at once, a rousing chorus of cheers and boos from hundreds of people seated all around the room. The Pack had been thrown into the midst of a small coliseum, though the audience was too enraptured by the show going on in the center to notice the sudden arrival of eight new people.

"Where are we?" Scott called out over the roar of the crowd.

"More importantly, where's Jackson?" Derek yelled, trying to gather his senses and take in his surroundings at the same time.

"I don't know!" Stiles responded, the answer working for both questions. "I've never seen this part of Limbo before, but that doesn't tell us a whole lot, because it's huge." The group huddled together, their backs to the wall at the top of the coliseum as they peered down on the gathering of people and the spectacle they had all apparently come to see.

"Do you think these people are actually real, or is this some kind of illusion?" Nolan asked, his voice nearly lost in the din.

"What makes you think it could be an illusion?" Scott asked.

"None of the people have faces," Nolan replied, pointing towards the nearest row of audience members. When the Pack took the time to study them, they discovered that Nolan was correct. Though the crowd of people were clearly making a lot of noise, they had no mouths, noses, or eyes. Where there should have been a face there was instead nothing but blank skin.

"Well that's not creepy at all," Stiles said as he recovered from the shock.

"But it is helpful," Noshiko added, composing herself quickly. "If you can see the illusion for what it is, you can break the illusion altogether." She reached out a hand, seemingly to place it on the shoulder of the faceless person closest to her. Instead, though, her hand went right through the person, who then promptly disappeared completely.

"So, if none of this is real, why did it appear in the first place?" Nolan asked.

"Because of Jackson," Isaac replied before anyone else could. He had gone rigid as he stared directly at the middle of the coliseum floor. As the others turned to see what had caught his attention, they realized that Jackson was there, in the center, being attacked by several faceless gladiators, all of whom seemed to be far stronger than the young wolf. "This is the pain that Jackson keeps hidden from everyone."

"Being attacked by faceless Roman warriors?" Brett asked, incredulously.

"No, losing his identity and just becoming another faceless person in the crowd," Isaac replied, starting to walk down the stands, through the crowd, towards Jackson. The rest followed his example.

"That makes sense," Stiles said, quickly joining Isaac at the front of the Pack as he purposefully pushed through the faceless people, causing them to disappear. "It's like what happened when he became the kanima, right? He wasn't sure who he really was, because he never knew his real parents, and the kanima was his existential identity crisis. You think he's going through that again?"

"More or less," Isaac said with a shrug, never taking his eyes off of his destination as he continued to plow through the faceless horde. As they got closer, they could start to hear the sounds of the battle taking place in the center of the coliseum, the roar of the crowd dissipating along with the crowd itself as the Pack pushed through it. Jackson was clearly struggling against his opponents, all of whom were taunting him mercilessly.

"He needs help," Scott growled, allowing his fangs and claws to extend as he got closer.

"We'll do this together," Derek said, imitating his alpha's actions while the other werewolves in the Pack quickly followed suit. Noshiko withdrew her sword, taking a practiced battle stance, while Stiles simply crossed his arms over his chest and relaxed, taking in their surroundings.

"You're with me," Stiles added, turning to Nolan, who looked immensely relieved at the announcement. "Stay close. Isaac, you and I will get Jackson, and hopefully get him to remember who he really is and see that this is all an illusion. Scott, stick close to us too, in case we need your alpha help. Everyone else, keep the weird warriors busy."

Scott nodded at his second-in-command once before turning to the rest of the pack. "Everyone ready? Let's go!" The next few moments were nothing but pandemonium. Scott led the charge directly into the heart of the battle with Derek, Brett, Lori, and Noshiko rushing after him. There were over a dozen of the faceless gladiators in the center of the coliseum, so they quickly broke apart so they could each take on a section of them. Unlike the crowd, the gladiators didn't fade away when touched, but instead seemed to contain more substance and could actually fight back.

Meanwhile, Isaac and Stiles ran in the other direction, intervening in Jackson's battle enough to allow Nolan to pull the injured werewolf away and towards the sidelines. Noshiko took on the gladiators Scott had begun fighting, swinging her sword wildly in all directions as she fought six warriors simultaneously. Scott, hesitating to leave the woman alone against that many enemies, made his way to the battle surrounding Jackson, taking over for Isaac so that he could talk to Jackson.

"It's just like old times, isn't it buddy?" Stiles called out, his voice deeper than usual, though he hadn't fully transformed into his demon form yet.

"Sort of. But I don't remember you being this good in a fight," Scott replied cheekily.

"Hey now!" Stiles retorted, pretending to be insulted. "Do you have any idea how many times I had to save your little werewolf butt? And this is the thanks I get? I resent that, Scotty." Stiles punctuated his last statement by throwing a punch directly through the heart of the gladiator in front of him. The gladiator stared down in shock at the hand going through his chest, screamed once, and then blew up into a thousand pieces. "Well, well, well, look who just figured out how to defeat our enemies," Stiles added, turning to look mockingly at his friend. "Does that jog any of your memories?" He finished with a wink.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Scott said with a huff, though the tone was still playful and amused. "You've always been good in a fight and figuring out what we need to do. Happy?"

"Very," Stiles finished with his trademark grin before pouncing on two more gladiators who had been trying to sneak around the group towards Isaac, Nolan, and Jackson.

"Jackson? Hey, it's me, it's Isaac. Can you hear me?" the young wolf was near frantic as he shook and prodded Jackson, trying to get him to come to his senses. Nolan held him up, nervously watching the scene around them unfold.

"I…Isaaaac?" Jackson finally replied, voice slurring over the word as he struggled to make the sound come out. His eyes remained unfocused and his head lolled to the side, watching as Derek, Brett, and Lori each battled the faceless gladiators. So far, the only one they had defeated was the one Stiles killed, and the Pack, for all their strength, looked to be outmatched. "Where…arrrrre weeee?"

"We're…well, we're in a very weird place," Isaac stumbled a bit too, grimacing as he tried to figure out how to explain. "What do you remember?" he finally asked instead.

"I…wassss…looking for you," Jackson replied, voice still slow and slurred, though his eyes finally seemed to come into focus. "No, that's not right…I was looking for…I was…" Suddenly, he choked, a sob forming in his throat as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. The battle raging around them intensified along with Jackson's inner turmoil, and the Pack were slowly being pushed back into a tighter circle around them. "You were killed," Jackson finally said, a look of horror on his face as his eyes found Isaac's.

"Yes, I was," Isaac said simply, not knowing what else to say.

"I tried to find the ones…who did it. I wanted to make them pay," Jackson continued, voice wavering with his conflicting emotions.

"Thanks. Although, in the future, I'd rather you not die just to get revenge for me," Isaac replied, causing Jackson to have a coughing fit as he tried to both laugh and cry at the same time.

"Wait," he said as he recovered, "I'm dead too?" The faceless gladiators began to grow, not just in strength, but also in size. The Pack was beginning to be truly overwhelmed, shouts and cries ringing through the air. Stiles' transformation into his demon form seemed to be the only thing holding them off now as the others struggled just to land a punch.

"Yeah, Jackson, you are. From what Scott and the others told me, the hunters who killed me killed you too," Isaac answered, tears of his own beginning to form.

"I failed," Jackson said, slumping inwards on himself. Demon-Stiles was struck through the middle with a pair of swords from the faceless gladiators and tossed aside. He transitioned back to human, but remained collapsed on the ground as Scott and Derek both shouted his name in agony. The gladiators rounded on the remaining members of the Pack, all of whom were now pushed up directly against the three figures huddled on the ground. "I'm worthless."

"You are not worthless!" Isaac half-yelled at the older wolf. "Jackson, you are my friend, my family, part of my Pack. Sure, you aren't perfect, but none of us are." Jackson looked up, meeting Isaac's eyes once more as the battle around them grew still and silent. Isaac tensed, worrying his bottom lip as he thought about what to say before plowing forward. "Jackson, this…" he gestured around them at the faceless crowd, "this isn't you. You have an identity, Jackson Whittemore. You have friends who care about you, a Pack who cares about you. And…and what about Ethan? How do you think he would react to all of this?"

"Ethan? Is he…here too?" Jackson tore his gaze away, anxiously scanning the room for signs of his boyfriend hidden in the shadows. The Pack remained where they were, hesitantly watching the unmoving gladiators. Scott's and Derek's eyes continued to dart over to the still and silent Stiles laying on the ground nearby.

"He's…well, we haven't found him…yet," Isaac replied, again uneasy at being the one to tell Jackson these things. "But yes, he is in Limbo, somewhere. From what the others told me, he died shortly after you did. He…couldn't go on without you." That, more than anything else, caught the werewolf-kanima's attention. "He loved you too much to bear losing you."

Everything remained eerily silent and still, no one dared even to breath. Then, all at once, it was like the whole room shattered. Jackson collapsed, dragging Isaac into a tight embrace as his tears finally fell freely. The brilliant white light that the Pack was getting all too familiar with flashed through the room, temporarily blinding all of the people present. As suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished, plunging the room into absolute darkness. The ground shook and the walls around them rumbled, knocking them all to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs and confusion. Then the shaking also suddenly stopped, the soft gray glow of Limbo reappeared, and the Pack slowly got to their feet, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"We're back in the room with the doors," Brett announced unnecessarily. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know, I've given up trying to figure out how this stuff works," Derek grumbled as he clambered to his feet after pushing Scott off of him. "Where's Stiles?" he asked, voice apprehensive.

"I'm here," Stiles choked out, waving from the corner of the room where he was lying. He slowly got to his feet, swaying a bit as he did so, causing Lori to dart out to catch him and help keep him upright. "Considering the fact that those swords were just a manifestation of Jackson's mental issues, they sure hurt a lot."

"I'm…I'm sorry Stiles," Jackson said, looking up at him from his spot in the center of the huddle, still clutched tightly in Isaac's hug and supported by a trapped Nolan.

"Don't worry about it," Stiles said, waving his arm in his general direction. "I've had far worse. I'm just glad you're back to being yourself, and that you are now safe here with us."

"Yeah, about that. What exactly is going on?" Jackson asked, getting to his feet and helping to drag the others up with him.

"Well, my friend," Stiles replied mischievously, laughing slightly at the looks on Derek's and Scott's faces, "on behalf of everyone here, let me officially welcome you…to Hell!" A chorus of groans and sighs met the pronouncement as Jackson simply stared at him confused. "Alright, so it's like this…" Stiles added, before launching into the whole entire story once more, with occasional interjections from the others, about what had happened to the Pack and how they were planning on bringing everyone back to life.

"That's insane," Jackson finally said, once they were finished. "But I like it," he quickly added, grinning as he did so. "What do we do now?"

"Well," Stiles said, taking in his surroundings. "We are back in the Portcullis, although I see there are only five doors now instead of six. I guess that means we need to choose another door, get another riddle, and then go rescue another one of our Pack members."

"Is everyone ready? Or do you guys want to take a moment?" Scott asked, turning to take in the condition his friends were in. They were definitely the worse for wear, several of them having received minor injuries during the battle with the faceless gladiators. Jackson still looked a little unsure of what was going on around him and Stiles was still being half-supported by Lori and Nolan, who had moved to rejoin the human-demon hybrid once he was no longer buried under Jackson and Isaac. They all gave him nods in the affirmative, though, so Scott moved towards the closest door, bracing himself slightly before tapping the surface three times, the way Awarnach had done.

It took a moment, but another face finally emerged from the woodgrain, staring unabashedly at the man in front of him. "So, you are the one the Portcullis has chosen to assist, huh?" the face said with a reedy, disdainful voice. "My, my, what has this world come to? No matter, you shall succeed or fail on your own merits, not mine. I trust you understand how this works boy?" The door paused, waiting while Scott nodded his head uncertainly. "Good, listen closely to my riddle, because I will only say it once." The door paused again, taking in the rest of the group, eyes lingering for just a moment on Stiles and Noshiko with interest.

"When enemies become allies, the motive may seem unsure; yet when it comes with conviction and friendship that age-old line can blur; I hold the path to a person who once was considered that way; though my path can only be opened by the bond of my dying day," the door spoke clearly, voice still ringing with disdain. "Good luck," it added as an afterthought before the face receded back into invisibility.

"What…on earth…is that supposed to mean?" Jackson asked, staring at the door dumbfounded.

"That's what we have to figure out," Isaac spoke gently from next to him. "Stiles?"

"What?" Stiles asked, startled, looking as though he had been lost in thought. He sighed, taking in the expressions of those around him. "Fine, I'll help get us started figuring it out. I think we're supposed to be looking for someone who was once our enemy before they became part of our Pack."

"Mmhmm," Nolan agreed absently from next to him, also lost in thought. "And the door has to be opened by someone who bonded with them on the day they died."

"Well, that doesn't narrow it down all that much," Scott said, thinking. "If we're being honest, most of our Pack were once enemies, or at least people we fought against or who didn't like us. Allison, Peter, Malia, Theo, Hayden, the twins, Deucalion, Boyd, Erica, Argent…there aren't too many people we're looking for who _don't_ fit that category."

"Alright, so we use the second part to figure out the first," Stiles said with a shrug. He received several confused stares in response.

"What he means," Noshiko added, "is that, according to the riddle, one of us somehow bonded with one of those people you mentioned on the day that they died. Just think through when and how they each died and see if you can come up with one you shared a bond with."

"Well, I was pretty _bonded_ to Ethan," Jackson said with a smirk, causing a few of the people around him to blush. "But I wasn't there when he died." The smirk faded to a more forlorn expression.

"I think I was there the day Erica died," Isaac said, pained by the thought, "but I can't really remember too much about that time still."

"Yeah, but did you guys really do any bonding that day? You were already friends at that point," Scott replied. "Maybe it's…"

"No Scott, it's not Allison," Stiles interjected before he could finish.

"It could be!" Scott retorted indignantly, "I held her in my arms as she died. She said she would always love me. That seems like a bonding moment to me."

"I think we're going about this the wrong way. We solved the last riddle by thinking literally, right? The whole neighbors thing, clueing us in on Isaac and Jackson. What if this riddle means a literal bond, like a pack bond?" Derek wondered aloud, cutting the argument between the two best friends off before it could go any further.

"Yeah, that would make sense," Stiles said, turning to look at the older man. "Did anybody here form a pack bond with someone on the day they died?"

"I did," Derek said quietly, taking the others by surprise.

"Who?" Scott asked.

"Aiden," Derek replied, wincing at the way Stiles reacted to the pronouncement. His voice grew distant as he spoke, the memories haunting. "The twins and I fought the Oni while you guys went after the Nogitsune, but Aiden was wounded and poisoned by their blades. I was already half-bonded with him and Ethan, when they asked me for help on how to get you guys to trust them and let them be part of the Pack. But it wasn't until that day that the Bond fully formed, as we fought alongside one another, and as I tried to help take away Aiden's pain before he died."

"It fits," Stiles said slowly, breaking the silence that had descended on them after Derek's reminiscence. "Aiden was an enemy turned ally, who became our friend. And you bonded with him on the day he died. Derek," he paused, waiting for the older man to look up, "you should go open the door, so we can get our friend back." Derek didn't react at first, still lost in thoughts and memories. Finally, he shook himself slightly, as though physically shaking the memories off of himself, before nodding to the young man and slowly walking purposefully over to the door. As he approached, the face reemerged from the woodgrain.

"So, have you figured out my riddle?" the face asked, voice laced with boredom.

"We have," Derek replied.

"Well, then what are you waiting for? Say the name, turn the knob, and move on to whatever awaits you beyond my portal," the door said grumpily.

"Alright," Derek said, reaching for the doorknob when he paused once more, turning to look at his friends. "I…I don't know Aiden's last name."

"It's Steiner," Jackson answered, a lone tear falling slowly down his face as he looked up to meet the former alpha's gaze.

"Aiden Steiner," Derek said with conviction as he turned the knob and opened the door.


	17. Song of the Redeemed

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi everyone. I did a bit of editing to the chapters I've posted so far. Nothing major, just a few grammar fixes here and there, though apparently ffnet thinks I've added about a thousand words to the story. If you happen to catch anything repeated, missing, etc., please let me know. Thank you again to everyone sticking with me on this journey! Oh, and just a heads up, this chapter gets a little gruesome towards the end.

Chapter 17: Song of the Redeemed

Derek, Scott, Stiles, Nolan, Brett, Lori, Isaac, Jackson, and Noshiko were momentarily struck blind once more by the flash of light that came from the opened door. They felt themselves being thrust forward, as though the ground beneath them had tilted, all landing with a crash in a row of seats. As they regained their senses, they realized that they were in an old movie theater, apparently long since abandoned if the layer of dust coating the entire room was anything to go by. They were alone, save for one other person sitting near the front of the auditorium, eyes fixed on the screen. Aiden didn't notice their sudden appearance, apparently remaining entranced by the images flashing by above him. The Pack took a moment to watch as well. Playing out like some sort of movie were scenes from Aiden's life – combining with his brother to form a giant wolf to attack Isaac and Braeden, going to school and messing with Scott and his Pack, fighting alongside Deucalion and the Alphas, fighting against the Alphas and nearly dying, clinging to Ethan as they realized they were now Omegas and fearing what the future would bring, working to try to earn a place in the McCall Pack, going to Derek for advice, fighting alongside Derek against the Oni, dying in his brother's arms. When the movie reached its conclusion, it switched to scenes from what must have been Aiden's childhood, his earliest memories, before continuing on through the familiar scenes that Scott and the others had been witness to.

"Well, we're not going to accomplish anything watching Aiden's 'It's a Wonderful Life' remake," Stiles said, finally breaking the silence after they'd watched the entire thing play through again. "Come on Sourwolf, we're going to need you to get through to him." Stiles didn't wait for a response, half-dragging Derek out of his seat and into the dusty aisle to walk down towards the row Aiden was sitting in. Scott quickly followed after them, while most of the rest of the Pack spread out instinctively, eyes darting around the theater for hidden enemies. Jackson alone remained seated in the back row, grabbing Isaac's arm and pulling him back down when the younger wolf tried to get up and join the others.

"Is everything ok Jackson?" Isaac asked, hesitantly glancing over his friend. Jackson was sweating, odd since the theater was rather cold. He was also shaking slightly, obviously nervous or worried about something.

"What if…how…what do I say to him?" Jackson finally asked, looking up to meet Isaac's gaze, eyes a whirlwind of emotion.

"What do you…oh," Isaac began, understanding dawning on him in the process. "You've never met your boyfriend's twin brother before, and you're afraid he won't like you."

"Ethan's told me all about him," Jackson said quietly, breaking the eye contact to instead stare at his hands clasped in his lap. "It was hard, at first. Both for him to talk about and for me to listen to, but I think once he started he couldn't stop. I feel like I know Aiden already, but he won't know me. And, from what Ethan told me, I don't think Aiden would want to know me. I don't…I don't want to make Ethan choose between me and his brother. That wouldn't be fair to him. And besides, I'm pretty sure I already know what choice he would make anyway. He can replace a boyfriend; he can't replace a twin brother."

"Jackson, you sound like you've already given up before you've even tried. That's not like you at all," Isaac replied, equally quietly, eyes darting around the room for inspiration. "Why are you so certain that Aiden isn't going to like you?"

"I brought his brother back to Beacon Hills and got him killed, for starters," Jackson answered tonelessly.

"Oh really? You what, chained him up and dragged him back to Beacon Hills against his will? Pulled the trigger on the gun with wolfsbane bullets? Really, Jackson?" Isaac asked, incredulous.

"I might as well have!" Jackson retorted, voice and temper rising. "He wouldn't have been there if I hadn't insisted we come back to try to find out what was going on!"

"That's weak Jackson. Like, really weak. And you know it," Isaac said with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Maybe. I just…I don't want to be alone again. I don't want to lose you, or Ethan, or any of the rest of our Pack again," Jackson said quietly, the fight almost visibly leaving his body. "I'm afraid."

Isaac stared open-mouthed at the older wolf for a moment, unsure how to respond. "Jackson," he finally began, "that's not going to happen. We're putting the Pack back together. We're all going to be together, for the very first time. You, me, Ethan, Aiden, Scott, Stiles…everyone. You're not going to lose anything here, I promise. I won't let that happen."

"You won't?" Jackson asked, looking up with an expression that was somehow both hopeful and doubtful at the same time.

"I promise," Isaac said again, more forcefully, as he wrapped his friend up in a tentative embrace. Jackson sighed, leaning into the touch and accepting the comfort from his packmate.

"Ok," he said as they drew apart and stood up. "I believe you." With that, they slowly moved to join the others, taking in the change in their surroundings. The movie of Aiden's life had stopped playing, the screen going blank. Derek, Aiden, Scott, and Stiles were locked in a rather intense looking discussion. Before they could determine what was going on, though, the room was filled with blinding light once more, and Jackson and Isaac joined the rest of the Pack in cascading backwards.

-o-

"We have to get out of here, before they start investigating," Mason whispered to Corey, voice barely noticeable even though they stood right next to one another. Corey nodded next to him, not daring to make any noise in response. Mason slung Nolan's backpack over his shoulder, securing it in place before ever so slowly pushing the door separating the kitchen and monitor room ajar. Corey peeked through the opening before pushing it slightly wider, noting that the two men were staring intently at the computer monitors and had their backs to the invisible boys. Once the door was open far enough, Corey and Mason squeezed through, silently pushing it back closed in the hopes that it would go unnoticed.

"There!" the second man exclaimed suddenly, drawing the first's attention to a monitor on the far right of the wall. Corey and Mason went rigid, holding their breath as they watched the two men with fear.

"What am I supposed to be seeing?" the first man asked grumpily, turning to his companion.

"Wait for it," the second replied. Another brief moment passed before he shouted again in triumph. "Did you see it? Just after the grenades went off, the door to the shed opened by itself." Corey and Mason could feel the blood draining from their faces as they stared at one another in horror. They were on the verge of being caught. Silently, they began to make their way towards the staircase that would lead them back outside.

"So what?" the first man asked, still unaware of the teens' presence. "It could 'ave been shook open by the explosions. There ain't no one there to open it."

"Exactly," the second man answered, face glowing with a look that said he had discovered something amazing. "Don't you remember? McCall had a freak in his pack that could make himself invisible. That one's dead, of course, but that doesn't mean he's the only one that could have that ability." Corey winced terribly at the statement, but slowly continued creeping forward anyway.

"So ya think there's some supernatural creature in here with us?" the first said, jumping to his feet and running to a control panel without waiting for a response. "Then why in tarnation are ya just standin' there? We gotta get this place in lockdown. Now!"

"Right, of course, my mistake," the second man replied, also jumping to his feet and breezing through a door into a room the hidden teens hadn't explored, coming within inches of running straight into them in the process. Mason pointed towards the stairs with his head, urging his boyfriend to move faster. Corey nodded, leading the way quickly, but quietly, up the stairs. They made it about halfway when the second man shouted towards the first from his spot in the other room.

"Scans are showing two other lifeforms here in the outpost! Quick, they're on the stairs leading outside!" Corey and Mason didn't wait to hear what happened next. Still cloaked in invisibility, they dashed up the stairs as fast as they could, barreling through the door at the top and out into the clearing. It was sheer pandemonium outside. Hunters were scattered everywhere, some on patrol, some setting up a perimeter, some talking in hushed tones, and all eyes darting around with suspicion, especially when they heard the door to the outpost bang open. Corey and Mason didn't stop, making a beeline straight for the trees and the relative safety they knew lay beyond.

"Attention! Attention!" the first man's voice called out, amplified throughout the clearing. "We have two unknown supernaturals inside the perimeter. This is not a drill! They are invisible and dangerous. We are going into lockdown immediately. Everyone to your stations, now! Secure the post and find those creatures!" The hunters began darting around the area before the speech had been completed. An alarm began to ring through the clearing as the man's voice cut out. Everything was in chaos. Mason and Corey bumped into several people, no longer concerned about anything other than putting as much distance as possible between them and the outpost. Shouts and cries echoed all around them as the hunters called out to one another orders, locations, or announcements that the invisible creatures were nearby.

Luck was on the teens' side. They made it into the trees, beyond the clearing just moments before an electric fence popped out of the ground, separating the outpost from the rest of the world. They kept going, though, terrified that they might still be caught or that their identity might be discovered. They ran for close to half a mile through the dense underbrush before Mason was too winded to continue and urged Corey to slow down and finally stop near a tall tree so they could catch their breath.

"I think…we made…it," he said, huffing slightly between words as he tried to get air into his lungs and his heartrate to descend. Corey shook his head slightly.

"We have to make it back to the Nemeton. That's the only place we know for sure where we will be safe," he said, slightly impatiently, his voice trembling in fear.

"You're right," Mason replied, finally drawing in full breaths and straightening back up. "But let's walk quietly, we don't want to accidentally lead the hunters there." Corey nodded, focusing on his hearing as much as possible to make sure there wasn't anyone else nearby before leading the way stealthily through the brush in the direction of the Nemeton. The first rays of sunlight began to appear through the canopy above them, alerting them to the fact that they had now been gone for several hours. Wordlessly, they continued forward, hoping with every fiber of being they had that they would make it back without being caught.

-o-

Stiles led Derek down the aisle toward the lone twin, his whole body radiating purpose. Scott quickly followed behind them, prepared to help if need be while most of the rest of the Pack silently spread out, offering a protective barrier. They could hear Jackson and Isaac in conversation still in the back row, but the three pack leaders knew it was a conversation they both needed and quickly tuned it out to give them some privacy.

"Stiles, do you have any idea of what I should say to get through to him," Derek asked, trying to hide the nervousness that nevertheless crept into his voice.

"I'm not sure. So far, everything has been about remembering what's happened and focusing on our identities as pack. That worked with Scott, Isaac, Brett, Lori, and Jackson. Hopefully it will work with Aiden too."

"But I don't really know that much about him. How am I supposed to do that?" was Derek's quick reply.

"Ummm," Stiles began, before being cut off.

"You don't have to remind me of anything, I know who I am," the lone twin's voice rang out, startling the three packmates who had made it down to his row and stood in the aisle next to him.

"You do?" Scott asked, gathering his composure first as Stiles scrutinized the wolf.

"I do," Aiden said simply, tearing his gaze away from the screen in front of him to make eye contact with his intruders. As he did, the screen went black. He glanced back at it briefly, a flash of disappointment crossing his face, before giving the others his full attention. "What do you want?" he asked cautiously, torn between putting up his guard or welcoming them. He finally settled into a somewhat neutral position, allowing them to move into the seats near him while still keeping a bit of distance.

"What do you remember?" Derek asked.

"Everything that was up there," Aiden replied, pointing towards the screen. "You've been here long enough to see it all, so you already know the answer to that question."

"Ok," Scott said slowly, not wanting to agitate the wolf in front of him. "Do you know where we are now?"

"In the world of the dead," Aiden answered immediately, not blinking or seemingly fazed at all by the pronouncement. "Where I've been for years, I think."

"How did you end up here? Not here, as in the world of the dead, but here here, in this room specifically," Stiles asked.

"I was just wandering around the tunnels," Aiden began, again torn between sharing his story with them and wanting to return to being alone. "I found this room by accident, and when I sat down it began to show me my memories. I guess I kind of got absorbed into it. I've left a couple of times to wander around some more, but I keep coming back here."

"How come?" Derek interjected.

"Because…" for a moment it looked like the wolf wasn't going to respond, before finally letting out a heavy sigh and collapsing into his seat. "Because it's the only way I can see my brother again."

"Oh," Scott replied. His face had indecision written all over it, something Aiden quickly picked up on.

"No!" he half-shouted, expression flying through emotions – fear, anger, pain, sadness. "My brother is not dead. Ethan is stronger than that!"

"Aiden," Derek said quietly, focusing on his bond with the younger wolf, trying to channel the truth into him through their connection. "I'm sorry. We tried. But Ethan was killed. Everyone was, the entire pack."

"No," Aiden said again, much more forcefully. "That can't be true. I don't believe you!"

"Aiden, please, let us explain," Derek begged, still trying to get the young wolf to calm down. He refused at first, continuing to insist that there was no way his brother could be dead already, it was much too soon. But eventually, he gave in and allowed the three to tell their story, explaining everything that had happened from the time Aiden died up to their adventures in Limbo and purpose in finding their packmates.

"So you're looking for Ethan, right? You're going to send him back to the real world, let him live again?" Aiden asked cautiously, not daring to hope too much.

"Well, yeah," Stiles replied, thrown off by the question. "We've got, like, a dozen people we're looking for. But Ethan is definitely one of them."

"Good," Aiden said, tone resolute and calm for the first time in the entire conversation. "Then I will help you find him. I want him to live again and have a chance at a better life."

"That's good," Derek said slowly, concerned by the twin's answer. "But what about you? Don't you want to live too? Don't you want to come back with us, with Ethan?"

Aiden looked lost at the question, as though he hadn't even considered it. "I can't," he finally said, simply, failing to hide the pain in his words or the lone tear that trailed down his cheek.

"Why not?" Scott asked, inching forward to try to comfort the wolf but afraid it would not be accepted.

"I'm not…well, I'm not one of you, one of your Pack," Aiden mumbled, staring at the ground in front of him and struggling to keep his emotions in check. "And after everything I did, I know there's no way I can be. But that doesn't matter to me," he continued on, quickly regaining his resolve, eyes darting up to meet Scott's. "Ethan was always the better of the two of us. He deserves to have a Pack, and I want him to be happy. Thank you for accepting him."

"Aiden, we want to accept you too," Scott said, tone quiet but firm nonetheless. Aiden was shocked, taking a step back as though Scott had assaulted him. He remained quiet though, allowing the Alpha to continue. "The only reason you don't have Pack bonds with us is because you were…taken…before we could form them. You are a part of our Pack."

"You're already bonded with me," Derek continued, picking up where Scott left off. "I know you felt it too, when it finished forming during our battle with the Oni. We," he gestured between himself and Aiden, " _are_ pack."

"And besides," Stiles picked up, "we already have a marker set up for you in the real world and everything. Lydia will be pretty disappointed if she went through all the work of drawing those runes and you don't show up." Something flashed across Stiles' face as he said it, unreadable to the wolves, but it quickly dissipated. Derek continued to scrutinize him for just a moment anyway.

"Well…I don't know what to say…I never thought, after everything with Deucalion, that I'd get the chance to be a part of a pack again…especially not a pack like yours," Aiden said, staring directly at Scott.

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Scott replied, simply.

"Thank you…Scott, for everything," Aiden said, just before the room was flooded with blinding light and all of its occupants were sent cascading backwards. As the group pulled themselves back together, they found they were once again in the Portcullis.

"Is that going to happen every time?" Nolan asked.

"It's kind of looking that way," Brett replied, clearly annoyed.

"Um…hi," Jackson said, walking up to Aiden after being half-pushed a little too enthusiastically by Isaac.

"Hi," Aiden said back, looking him up and down.

"So…you don't know me, because, well, you died before we could meet, which I'm sorry about by the way, I should have been there to help and I wasn't, but anyways I wanted to introduce myself to you properly because I've heard a lot about you and I thought it would be a good idea to, you know…" Jackson rambled before trailing off, looking down at his feet as he scuffed his shoes against the dirt floor. Aiden continued to stare at the wolf for a moment before the lightbulb almost visibly went on inside his head.

"You're with Ethan," he said, a smug look on his face.

"Well, I, um, yeah, I am," Jackson stumbled, going red in the face. "We've been dating for awhile now."

"Good."

"Good?" 

"Good," Aiden repeated, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding his head for emphasis. "I'm glad Ethan found someone and didn't just wallow after I died. Especially since that someone is part of Scott McCall's pack."

"Oh," Jackson said, at a loss for words. A sly, happy grin slowly came over his expression.

"But, we got to get two things clear," Aiden added, instantly wiping the happy expression from Jackson's face, to be replaced by one tinged by fear. "First, if you hurt him in any way, _any_ way, I will destroy you." Jackson gulped but nodded his head in understanding, taking a step back. "And second," Aiden continued, a grin of his own forming, "he's gay, but I'm not, so before you ask, no, we cannot do _stuff_ together." Several of the pack members laughed at the pronouncement. Jackson's face turned beet red, followed quickly by his ears, neck, and even the visible portions of his arms. Finally, Stiles took mercy on him.

"Alright, so, now that we've got that settled," he said, winking suggestively at the two as the others calmed down and focused their attention on him, "how about we get back to our search?"

"Everyone ready?" Scott asked, turning to each of them for confirmation before walking up to the nearest door to start the process once more. Once again, a face slowly emerged from the wood grain.

"Oh look, a bunch of kids off on some adventure," the face said with a deep voice, yawning as it did so. "I suppose you want my help." It paused, waiting until Scott nodded before proceeding. "Well, then, here it is. What matters most is the heart, without it we die a thousand times over. Beyond my door lies one who knows that well, one who has twice had a change of heart, though one is not like the other. If you wish to proceed, my door must be opened by the one whose own heart changed the day the other's heart proved true. Good luck."

"What kind of riddle is that? It didn't even rhyme!" Brett said exasperatedly, flopping down to sit on the ground in a huff.

"Riddles don't have to rhyme," Stiles replied, "but I agree that this one is a little out there."

"Let's break it down in pieces, like before," Noshiko said, voice calm and contemplative. "What do we know?"

"Well," piped up Nolan, "we know that it has something to do with hearts."

"No duh," Aiden interjected sarcastically, deflating some of Nolan's enthusiasm.

"I wasn't finished," he said, trudging on after a quick glance from Stiles. "The person we are looking for has had a change of heart twice. And the person who opens the door has also had a change of heart."

"Guys, I think it's…" Scott began before Stiles and Isaac interrupted him.

"It's not Allison!" they said in unison.

"We have a similar problem to the last riddle," Derek added before any of them could continue. "The Pack is made up of a lot of people who've had a change of heart. So how do we narrow it down?"

"It wasn't just a change of heart, though," Jackson mused, "the door said the person had changed their heart twice."

"But in different ways," Nolan added, "one is not like the other."

"Whatever that means," Brett said from his spot on the floor. Several of the others slowly joined him, sitting in a loose circle as they tried to think through the riddle and occasionally offering ideas on who it could be.

"Maybe Deucalion? He was sort of good, I guess, before he went crazy, then he was kind of good again," Scott threw out to the group at large.

"No way, Deucalion is part of your pack?" Aiden asked incredulously, turning from Scott to Stiles to Derek to Isaac as though hoping one of them would correct him.

"Well, yeah. Like I said, everyone deserves a second chance," Scott replied with a shrug.

"And, he was surprisingly helpful during the Anuk-Ite attack," Stiles replied, before turning to Scott also, "but I don't think its him. Like Nolan said, the riddle made a point of saying that the two changes of heart are different, and Deucalion simply had the same change of heart in reverse."

"Ok, then how about Chris Argent?" Scott continued.

"He really only had one change of heart," Derek answered, "he went from agreeing with Gerard to agreeing with us. No, letting you date Allison doesn't count as a change of heart." Derek finished exasperatedly, putting a stop to Scott's puppy dog eyes.

"Ok, then I have a kind of stupid question," Isaac interjected. He waited until Scott gestured for him to continue. "How can a person have two different kinds of change of heart? Like, what's the criteria here?"

"Well, there's the obvious one…good to evil or evil to good," Lori said.

"And you can literally change someone's heart, replacing it with a different one," Aiden added. When he did, Scott and Stiles both went rigid. "What," Aiden asked, confused by their reaction.

"You don't think?" Scott asked, turning to his best friend.

"Theo," Stiles said, nodding his head vigorously as the gears in his brain whirled into action, getting more excited with each sentence. "It all fits. Theo was obsessed with hearts, it's what mattered most to him. He had a literal change of heart when we were kids and the Dread Doctors put his sister's heart in him, and then he had a metaphorical change of heart when he joined our side. And the whole die a thousand times over part, that's what happened to him when he was sent to the Underworld and his sister kept ripping his, or rather her, heart out of his chest." By this point he had jumped to his feet, pacing slightly as the others rose to join him.

"So, then, if it is Theo, who is supposed to open the door?" Derek asked, quelling some of the excitement. Everyone turned silent for a few moments.

"Me," Nolan eventually replied quietly, fidgeting as all eyes turned to him. He looked up, making eye contact with Stiles as he continued. "It was back during the Anuk-Ite incident. I wasn't comfortable with what Monroe was doing for awhile, but I was too afraid to do anything. But I eventually decided I had to switch sides. The day I did, Theo and Liam and I ended up working together to fight Monroe's hunters in the hospital. And, at the end of the battle, Theo took Gabe's pain away as he was dying. It was the first time he'd ever done it, it proved he had changed."

"That works for me," Stiles said happily, slinging his arm across Nolan's shoulder as they both turned to Scott.

"Me too," Scott added, grinning as well. "Everyone else?" he asked, turning to get confirmation from the rest of the Pack members present. They all agreed, nodding or giving a thumbs up. "Alright, Nolan, go open the door for us."

Nolan gulped, then nodded his head before slowly walking up to the door, towing Stiles along with him by the arm still slung across his shoulder. As he approached, the face reemerged on the door. "Have an answer?" it asked with another yawn, eyeing Nolan up and down. Nolan nodded again, half-afraid to speak. "Then let's get this over with. I trust you know what to do."

Nolan hesitated slightly, almost visibly gathering up his courage before stepping forward the rest of the way, grasping the doorknob, and calling out in a slightly shaky voice, "Theo Raeken." He slowly pushed the door open, allowing the room to be bathed in blinding light as the Pack felt themselves catapulting forward once again.

The light dissipated, leaving the Pack standing in a tightknit group in a very dimly lit room. The room reeked of chemicals, almost too much to take for the werewolves. As their eyes began to adjust to the dark, they began to take in the rest of their surroundings – chairs and small end tables scattered about, a large reception desk in the front of the room, doors and hallways leading in multiple directions. They were still getting their bearings when a low whisper echoed through the hallways, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. "Theeeeoooooooo," the voice hissed through the air. Just then, Theo himself burst through a door leading into the room they were gathered in.

"No, Tara! Stop, please! At least give me a chance to…whoa, what are you guys doing here?" Theo stopped abruptly, shocked by the sudden appearance of the ten Packmates. They didn't have a chance to reply, though. Theo had barely gotten the words out when a hand burst through his chest from behind, clutching his still beating heart. Theo looked down at the hand in acceptance, as though he'd been expecting it. The hand withdrew, pulled backwards through his chest and body, and Theo collapsed to the floor, blood pooling out around him. Behind him stood his sister, Tara, a gaping hole in her own chest, where she casually placed the heart and wiped some blood off of her hand onto her shirt. As she did, Theo's body faded into the ground.

"Theo!" Scott called out, trying to reach for the young man before he disappeared completely, but he was too late.

"What…the hell…is going on here?" Stiles asked through gritted teeth, turning his attention to Tara.

"It's Theo's punishment, for what he did to me," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders at him as she turned to walk away. "Stick around and watch if you like, I'll make the next one more interesting." With that, she too vanished. A moment later, the wolves heard the distinct sound of a door opening somewhere further in the hospital and everyone heard the drawn out whispered "Theo" echoing through the halls.

"Tara please! Just let me expl…" Theo was cut off as he was forced through another door, flying through the air to land in a heap at the other end of the room. Several of the pack members rushed towards him, but before they could reach him Tara had appeared, waving a bone saw wildly through the air. The Pack was frozen in place as she used it to hack through her brother's ribcage, relishing in his sobs and pleas as she pulled his heart out once again. As before, he lasted only briefly before vanishing from sight.

"Tara, wait!" Scott called out as she made to leave again.

"Why? Why did you come here?" she retorted, immediately standing directly in front of them.

"You don't know the full story," Scott replied calmly, unshaken by her menacing expression.

"My own brother left me for dead, just so he could steal my heart for himself! What more do I need to know?" she shouted, waving the heart in his face.

"You need to know what he did with it," Nolan said quietly, catching her off guard. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him. In the distance, they could here the tell-tale signs of Theo once more making his way towards them through the hallways, but this time Tara didn't call for him or chase after him. She was intrigued.

"Fine then," she said disdainfully, "enlighten me on what a saintly life my brother led after killing me." Several of the Pack members took turns walking her through the Dread Doctors' experiments and manipulations, how Theo was killed the first time and brought back to life. By this time Theo himself had appeared in the room, listening quietly to them tell his story. They went on to talk about the Ghostriders, how Theo had begun to change and help them. They told her about the Anuk-Ite, and Nolan told her how completely Theo had come full circle, how he had helped his dying friend and how much that had meant for him in his own attempts to become a better person. When he had finished, she whipped around to stare at her brother, who backed away in fear. "Is this true?" she demanded, stalking up to him.

"Yes," he answered, hanging his head. "All of it, the good and the bad. Tara," he looked back up, meeting her eyes, "I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. I know there's no way I can ever make it up or make it right. But I have changed, and with my…Pack's help, I became a better person, someone you can, maybe, be proud of."

Tara eyed him for a moment before turning back to the others. "Tell me what happened after that night in the hospital. What did my supposedly reformed brother do next?" And so they continued their story, telling her about how Theo had slowly become integrated into the Pack, how he had helped them through their continued battles with Monroe, and how he had ultimately died again, sacrificing himself while trying to save one of their friends.

"Tara," Stiles finished, "I won't lie to you. Theo has done a lot of bad, and he's made a lot of mistakes along the way. But, like a buddy of mine always says," he glanced at Scott with a grin, "everybody deserves a second chance. I was skeptical at the beginning, but I saw firsthand that Theo used his second chance to do good, to help."

"And now we need him to do it again, to help again," Scott added. "Can you find it in you to let him have that chance?"

Tara stared at Scott for a long time, coming closer to staring through him than anything. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, she turned rapidly and thrust her hand into Theo's chest, yanking the heart out once again. Theo remained standing, gasping for air as his eyes darted between the hole in his chest and the heart in Tara's hand. "This belongs to me," she said, reaching her other hand out to tilt Theo's face up to make eye contact. "I can feel it beating, so I will know if you are lying. Tell me, Theo, are you really sorry for what you did to me?"

Theo's entire face took on a pained expression as he stuttered out an answer. "Yes, there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about that night. And, ever since I became friends with these guys, there hasn't been a day go by that I didn't regret what I did. I wish I could go back and undo it all, I wish I could do something to make it up to you. I'm just…I'm really, truly, sorry."

Tara remained contemplative, allowing the room to descend into silence as she turned and walked away from Theo, completely focused on the heart beating in her hand. "I loved you, Theo," she finally said, voice barely more than a whisper. "Do you know that? I loved you more than life itself. If you had asked, I would have given you this heart willingly, so that you could go on living." Both she and her brother had tears streaming down their faces as she took a few steps closer. "If I let you leave here and go with your friends, will you be a better person? Do you promise to do good?"

"You…you have my word, I will always try to…I will always try to be like you," he answered with a small, sad smile.

"Ok," she said, a note of resolution to her tone. She paused again, steeling herself for what she had to say. "Ok. Then…I will give this back to you, willingly. Take my heart, and use it to make the world a better place." Before anyone could say anything, she once more thrust her hand into Theo's chest. This time, though, she placed the beating heart inside and allowed it to remain. When she removed her hand, the spot on Theo's chest returned to normal, unblemished; and, a moment later, so did the wound in her own chest. For the first time in ten years, the brother and sister clung to one another in a fierce, loving hug. They wept openly, Theo muttering, "I'm sorry," over and over again while Tara whispered, "I love you," back just as many times.

Eventually, the two pulled away from one another, and as they did, Tara closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards as though listening to something. "I think…I can finally rest in peace," she said, turning her attention to her brother one more time, giving a soft smile to him as her body began to fade. "Take care of yourself, little brother. And make me proud."

"I will," he whispered back as she disappeared completely. The room was silent for a moment longer, before a blinding flash of light filled the air and the eleven people present all cascaded back towards a familiar room that now contained three wooden doors.


	18. That Which Makes Us Whole

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi everyone. So, life has not been pleasant here lately, meaning I haven't had much time to work on this or my other story. I hope you'll be patient and stick with me, and I'll try to continue updating as much as possible. Just to give you a heads up, this chapter gets a little gory in the middle. Your reviews and comments are always appreciated!

Chapter 18: That Which Makes Us Whole

"Ok, I'm glad we're getting the band back together, but I'm really starting to get tired of landing in a big pile like this," Brett groaned from the floor of the Portcullis as he tried to push Stiles and Isaac off of him. The others murmured in agreement around him as they regained their bearings.

"What just happened?" Theo asked, standing off to the side a bit, looking very unsure of himself.

"Well, Theo, on behalf of everyone here…" Stiles started, before being cut off.

"Stiles, don't welcome Theo to Hell. I think he's probably been through Hell enough already," Scott said.

"I suppose you have a fair point there," Stiles said with a shrug. Seeing Theo's look of growing confusion, they took pity on him and explained what was going on – how they were putting the Pack back together in order to return everyone back to life and how the Portcullis of Purgatorium had apparently decided to aid them on their quest by presenting them with a series of riddles and portals.

"Alright, that's pretty out there. But after everything we've been through, I definitely believe you. Count me in," Theo said once they were finished, a half-grin on his face.

"Now that we have that settled, what exactly are you?" Aiden asked, stepping forward and scenting the air purposefully with a confused expression on his face. "You don't smell like a true werewolf."

"I'm not," Theo replied simply, "I'm a chimera, part werewolf and part werecoyote. The Dread Doctors created me as part of their experiments to bring the Beast of Gevaudan back to life."

"That sounds like a terrible idea," Aiden said with a scoff before turning to Scott. "You have a very…eclectic pack."

"That's only the beginning," Stiles interjected with a grin, "we've also got a chameleon chimera, a werewolf who used to be a chimera, a Hellhound, and a full werecoyote, in addition to the banshee, kitsune, humans, and werewolves you already know about. Did I miss anyone?"

"I'm a werewolf, but I still have access to some of my kanima powers if I concentrate," Jackson added with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"Oh yeah, we got one of those too," Stiles added, flailing his arm in the general direction of where Jackson stood and smiling widely. "And I possess a demon that I can shapeshift into."

"Yes, our pack is a bit eclectic," Scott finished, giving Aiden a searching look, "but that's a good thing. We rely on each other's strengths and help with each other's weaknesses. I like the fact that we have so many different kinds of people in our Pack. Is that going to be a problem for you?"

"No," Aiden answered quickly, and they could tell he was sincere. "It just surprised me is all. I've never met a pack before that was so…open. My first pack was only werewolves, we didn't even have an emissary. And then, well, you know what the Alpha Pack was like. So this is different than what I'm used to. But it suits you, all of you. And, if you're sure you want me, I'd like to be a part of it too."

"Good. Now that we have _that_ settled, maybe we should get back to our search for those missing packmates," Stiles said before anyone else could say anything.

"I second that," Derek replied, raising his hand in the air for emphasis.

"Alright, let's get another riddle and keep going," Scott said, taking in everyone's expressions before turning towards the closest door and knocking as before.

A brief moment passed before this door's face slowly emerged. It had a much more feminine look about it, softer features and the impression of flowing hair. The voice, too, while still masculine, had a higher lilt to it. "Ah, hello travelers. I have been wondering when it would be my turn to gaze upon the ones the Portcullis has deemed worthy of our assistance. It brings me great joy to see that you have progressed through my three brother's challenges so well and managed to rescue those whom you seek. I do hope your luck shall continue to prevail."

"Um, thanks," Scott replied, taken aback by the short speech and unsure what to say in response. "Do you…do you have a riddle for us?"

"Of course, young one. Listen closely. What is that which makes us whole? Is a coin a coin if it has no second side? Or a year a year in which there is no winter? Or a brother a brother who has no sibling? Can a new whole be formed when an old one has been lost? Beyond my portal lies one who knows well the quandary of wholes and halves, having been both a whole and a half simultaneously in life. If you wish to proceed, my way must be opened by one who would redefine wholeness for the sake of friendship, who would rewrite the rules for the sake of love and secrets, and who would undo the wrongs of the past by breaking the rules of the present for the sake of a whole future. I wish you all the best of luck as you seek to solve my riddle." The face spoke in a lilting, easy voice before giving a small smile towards the Pack and sinking back into the wooden door.

"Um…what?" Brett asked, breaking the silence that had descended upon the group.

"No kidding. How are we supposed to figure out what that means?" Theo asked, turning to look at the others. Stiles, Noshiko, and Nolan looked deep in thought while the rest wore expressions of varying amounts of confusion and incredulity.

"Let's…let's start by going at this a little differently. Who all is still missing?" Nolan began, directing his question at Scott. Scott returned the look with an inquisitive gleam in his eye before he caught on.

"Oh, I get it. If we know who we are looking for, specifically, it'll be easier to figure out who fits the description. Like turning it into a multiple-choice question. That's a good idea," Scott replied.

"Well," Derek continued thoughtfully, "in addition to everyone we've already found, we have markers already set up for Kira, Liam, Malia, Ethan, Hayden, Parrish, Deucalion, Sheriff Stilinski, Argent, Allison, Boyd, Erica, and Peter. We talked about wanting to include a few more people as well, but we didn't have anything to create markers for them."

"Assuming it's one of the people you already have a marker for, that gives us thirteen options. So, what in the riddle can we use to narrow that down a bit?" Aiden asked, still skeptical of the whole situation.

"Wholeness was the key piece, by the sound of it. We're looking for someone who was 'both a whole and a half simultaneously in life,'" Noshiko answered.

"And who knows the quandary of wholes and halves well," Nolan added.

"Whatever that means," Brett finished, unnecessarily.

"Maybe it's Deucalion?" Isaac said, looking very unsure of himself as he said it. "I mean, he was whole, in the physical sense, before he lost his eyesight. And then he eventually got it back again."

"Maybe," Derek replied, "but I don't think losing your eyesight would really count as losing half of yourself. And all the riddles up to this point have been fairly literal, once we figured them out."

"Perhaps Malia then," Theo said. "She spent like half her life living in the woods as a coyote, and I know she struggled a lot to figure out who she was after you guys shifted her back to human." He cut himself off, embarrassed by the memories of what he had once done with that knowledge.

"I don't really think it would be her," Lori replied, surprising everyone. "I agree she struggled a bit right at first, but by the time I got to know her she was completely confident in who she was and had mostly put all that behind her. It didn't seem to bother her that she was different, so I'm not sure the whole/half bit really applies to her."

"What about Allison?" Scott said, hurrying to continue before the others could protest. "No wait, hear me out. Allison was a whole when she came to Beacon Hills, but then she learned that she only knew half the story. Then she also lost half of her family: Kate, her mom, Gerard. But then she became a new whole, when she and her dad went from being hunters to being protectors. She formed a new whole when the old one was lost."

"That…actually makes a fair amount of sense," Stiles replied, looking surprised as he said it. "But there is one piece that doesn't fit that really stuck out to me." He turned to look at Aiden before continuing. "Is a brother a brother who has no sibling?"

Aiden gasped slightly before responding. "Ethan. You think it's Ethan?" He looked disbelieving and hopeful all at the same time.

"Maybe. Does the rest of the riddle fit him?" Stiles answered with a noncommittal grunt.

"Ethan and I both were always torn on the whole/halves bit. We're not the same person, but a lot of people tried to treat us like we were. I suppose it didn't help any when we learned how to actually merge into one person. So that all fits," Aiden replied, struggling to not get his hopes up while he spoke.

"Can a new whole be formed when an old one has been lost?" Jackson asked, mostly to himself, though everyone with supernatural hearing still heard him.

"What did you say Jackson?" Derek asked.

"It was part of the riddle," Jackson said, sheepishly looking up and joining the conversation. "Can a new whole be formed when an old one has been lost? But it reminded me of something Ethan and I talked about when our relationship began to get more serious. We were both kind of…broken, I guess you could say. He had lost so much and I still hadn't gotten over the whole kanima thing. Basically we just talked a lot about what it would mean for us to move on, to be together and try to make one another whole again. And we decided the answer was yes, a new whole can be made."

"Ok, let's say you are correct, because so far that is the one that makes the most sense," Noshiko said, breaking the contemplative silence that had descended upon them after Jackson's reply. "If Ethan is the one on the other side of the portal, who is the one who should open the door?"

"Me!" Jackson and Aiden said simultaneously before turning to glare at one another.

"I'm his brother," Aiden quickly added, "we were literally one person at times. It would make the most sense for me to be the one to take us to him."

"But I'm his mate. That makes me his other half in a spiritual sense, and we helped one another create the new whole the riddle talked about," Jackson retorted.

"You guys are thinking about it the wrong way," Isaac interjected before the two could argue any further. "This isn't about who is closest to him, it's about who the riddle wants."

"That's right," Nolan added, though he hid slightly behind Stiles as he said it. "And the riddle talked about looking for someone who 'would redefine wholeness for the sake of friendship, who would rewrite the rules for the sake of love and secrets, and who would undo the wrongs of the past by breaking the rules of the present for the sake of a whole future.' We have to figure out who that describes."

"Do you have any suggestions?" Aiden asked, giving the younger human a stern look that had Nolan inching a little further behind Stiles.

Derek watched the exchange with intensity for a moment before speaking up. "Actually, I do. It's Stiles," he said simply, amused by the reactions of those around him.

"Why me? So far, there has been some definite connection between the one who opens the portal and the one it leads to. But, well, Ethan and I weren't exactly close, not after what happened with…" Stiles said quickly before tapering off to glance at Aiden with a guilt-ridden expression.

Scott moved in, clasping a hand tightly on Stiles' shoulder in support. "But like Nolan said, its not about who was close to him, its who the riddle wants. And what the riddle described…that's what you are doing. This whole thing with gathering the Pack together and sending everyone back to life. You are rewriting and breaking the rules and all that stuff for love and friendship so that we can have a future."

"Exactly," Derek added, also moving closer, "it has to be you."

"For what its worth, I believe they are correct as well," Noshiko said, giving Stiles an appraising look.

Stiles looked lost in thought for a moment as he processed this new idea. "Alright, I admit it makes sense as far as the logic of the riddle is concerned. But, like before, we only get one shot at this, so I'm not doing it unless we are _all_ in agreement." He looked around the room, watching as everyone nodded their heads or gave some other indication that they agreed. "Well then, when in Hell…" Stiles said, throwing his arms in the air before striding over to the door. The face reappeared, but Stiles didn't wait for it to speak, instead grasping the door handle tightly, turning, and saying with a fierce determination in his voice, "Ethan Steiner!" The door smiled approvingly before the entire group was enveloped in bright light and cascaded forward through the portal once more.

They landed in a close huddle in an old, abandoned warehouse. The blinding light dissipated, leaving the Pack in near total darkness. The wolves could smell rust, mold, and traces of chemicals mixing with the emotions of fear, anger, disgust, and more. A scream tore through the air, followed by growls and laughter and sobs.

"Ethan!" Aiden called out in desperation, recognizing the voice of his brother crying out in pain and frantic to get to him. Stiles and Derek managed to hold him at bay.

"Wait," Derek said, trying to channel calm through their bond with one another, "we need to figure out what is going on rather than just diving in headfirst."

"But my brother!" Aiden replied through the fangs that he had let extend. At the same time, Isaac and Scott were doing their best to hold a similarly wolfed out and frantic Jackson.

"What exactly is going on?" Brett called out, apprehensive. The screams and cries continued to echo through the building. With Jackson and Aiden corralled, the wolves were able to concentrate enough to determine the sounds were coming from above them, in what appeared to be an office overlooking the floor of the warehouse.

It was at that point that Aiden went absolutely rigid, the smell of pain and terror wafting off of him and overwhelming the others. "No," he choked out, staring at the office several floors above them in horror.

"What is it? Do you know what this place is?" Scott asked, leaving Jackson for the moment to make his way over to the trembling wolf. Another petrified scream tore through them all before Aiden could reply.

"Yes," he said, looking close to being in tears as he did so, "this is…this is where our first p-p-pack…this was their den."

"The pack Deucalion helped you get out of?" Scott questioned, immediately regretting it at the look Aiden gave him. The former alpha gave in to the tears as he nodded his head solemnly in response.

"Aiden, I know its painful, but is there anything you can tell us that will help get your brother out of here?" Stiles asked with a grimace.

"They…" Aiden started, before stopping to take a deep breath to try and settle himself. When he continued, there was a cold steel to his voice, devoid of any emotion at all. "They tortured us for fun. Ethan and I were the youngest in the pack, omegas that they had taken in after another alpha bit us and abandoned us. They were ruthless, they treated us like slaves. We had to serve them, clean for them, cook for them, whatever they wanted. The…worst part, though, was this." He stopped, gesturing up towards the office. "They would chain us up, beat us…r-rape us…It was hell, and when Deucalion offered us a way out, we took it without stopping to question it, because we knew that whatever happened couldn't be worse than this." Aiden stopped as another heart-wrenching cry of pain tore through them from above. The others stared at him in varying amounts of sympathy and horror, but Aiden refused to look at any of them, eyes staring daggers at the office window above where they could see shadows moving around.

"Ok," Stiles said, breaking the tense silence, "so what we need to figure out is whether that is actually happening again, or if this is Ethan being forced to relive his memories of that time. And then we need to figure out how to get him out of here."

"How do you propose we do all that?" Theo asked, casting a skeptical glance at Stiles.

"Very carefully," Stiles replied, "and quietly."

"There should be a staircase over in that corner," Aiden interjected, pointing into the dark recesses of the building. "It'll take us up to the hallway right outside the office." He took off without waiting for anyone else, the others quickly, and silently, following behind him. Aiden led the way up several flights of stairs to the hallway in question, but stopped when they reached it. From this vantage point, they could much more easily make out the tearful sobs of Ethan as he begged and pleaded his tormentors to stop. It was almost too much for the freed twin to take, and only the hand of his new alpha on his shoulder kept him grounded enough to not dart in in a full frenzy.

The Pack slowly crept forward, Scott and Stiles (now in demon form) leading the way, Derek, Aiden, and Jackson right behind them with the rest spreading out down the hallway. The door to the office was left ajar, which the five of them took advantage of to sneak into the room undetected. Scott stopped dead in his tracks at the sight, Derek gaped in horror, Aiden doubled over on the verge of throwing up and Jackson collapsed to his knees. Demon-Stiles remained unreadable, though he clearly struggled to watch what was going on.

In the center of the room, stretched out and tied down to a metal table, was a young Ethan, perhaps 13 or 14 years old. His back was a flailed mess, lacerations tearing the skin open the entire length of his spine, some so deep in places that the bone was visible through the chunks of muscle and tissue laid bare before them. Judging by the odd angles of his limbs, there were also several broken bones in his arms and legs, all of which were coated in blood, cuts, and bruises. The boy was sobbing uncontrollably, his pleas becoming unintelligible through the pain and anger and betrayal.

Ethan was surrounded by four werewolves, all of whom were fully shifted and in various stages of tormenting him. One of them, standing on the young wolf's right, held a whip, the obvious cause of the lacerations up and down his back. Another, on his left, was in the process of tracing her claws up his arm, tearing through the skin as she did so. A third, crouched in front of him at eye level, was verbally taunting him, her voice a constant stream of insults and threats that only stopped when she paused to lean forward and bite at his face. The fourth, and lone male of the group, stood half undressed between Ethan's legs, his claws digging into the young boy's thighs as he pressed himself forward.

Ethan screamed again as the whip came crashing down on his back before exclaiming a muffled, "please," that spurred his rescuers into action. Demon-Stiles, Scott, and Derek made short work of attacking the four wolves torturing the poor boy, the battle raging in the office before they unceremoniously threw the beasts out of the window, Stiles flying after them to ensure they didn't recover. Aiden and Jackson went immediately to either side of the injured boy, cutting him loose and taking his pain as best they could. They got him into a sitting position as his tears slowly came to a halt, noticing that his frontside looked even worse than his back, if that were possible. Not knowing what else to do, and heartbroken over seeing him in such bad shape, Aiden and Jackson almost simultaneously wrapped Ethan in a tight embrace between the two of them, their own tears flowing freely and mixing with his.

Scott and Derek watched helplessly from the back of the room, joined a moment later by Stiles flying through the shattered window and returning to his human form after giving quick confirmation that the four attackers were gone. The rest of the Pack remained in the hallway, sickened enough by the smell and the sounds and having no desire to see what had happened as well. It took a long time, but eventually the three in the center of the room calmed down enough to pull away from one another, Ethan's eyes darting back and forth between his brother and his mate. His injuries had begun to heal, and his body began to age as he spoke. "I never thought I'd see either one of you again, much less both of you together coming to my rescue."

The two wolves spared one another a quick glance, Jackson spluttering a cross between a sob and a laugh while Aiden merely whimpered at the reminder of being separated from his brother for so long. "What do you remember?" Jackson finally asked as the room around them began to fade, seemingly becoming almost immaterial.

"Everything," Ethan said softly, giving his brother a quick wink, who looked away, as he drew Jackson in closer and kissed him, almost reverently. The blinding flash of white light went unnoticed by them, the feeling of cascading forward was just butterflies in their stomachs after having been separated for so long.

-o-

"Do you think they're ok?" Melissa asked, breaking the tense silence that had descended on the Nemeton's clearing.

Once Mason and Corey had disappeared through the barrier, she and Lydia had gone to work. They took inventory of what they had with them in terms of food and supplies, creating a rough estimate of how long it would last and what they would need to figure out a way to replenish first. They had also tended to Derek, feeding his comatose body some soup and water and cleaning up a few fresh cuts and scrapes that had spontaneously appeared. Then they had begun to excavate the ruins of the root cellar at the base of the tree. It was difficult work, most of the cellar was caved in from the Darach's attack and the intervening years of neglect. After two hours of digging and scraping, they decided to call it quits until the had some supernatural muscle to help them, and instead had gone about setting up a more permanent camp. Using materials that Derek and Lydia had brought with them as well as what Melissa had and what they could salvage from the root cellar, they were able to create a divided tent of sorts that would give both the men and women some privacy while they slept. Satisfied with their work, and concerned by the explosions they could hear off in the distance, Melissa had drawn the banshee out of her reverie.

"Hmm," was all Lydia said in reply for a moment, concentrating on something internally. "Yes," she finally added, "or at least, they are in no immediate danger of dying. I am able to sense that much. I wish my powers could tell me a little more though."

"Hon, that's ok. Knowing they're alive is more than enough for now," Melissa replied, settling down next to the young woman and wrapping her in a tight embrace. "I thought I had lost you all, that I was the only one left. So having you and them back, and the promise of the rest coming soon, it's…well, let's just say I'm not going to be complaining any time soon."

"I know what you mean," Lydia mumbled into the older woman's shoulder. "Ever since this whole thing started with Monroe and her hunters, I've just been so terrified of…"

"Terrified of what?" Melissa asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer.

Lydia paused to collect her thoughts before speaking. "You remember when we told you about Canaan?"

"The town the Ghost Riders took? The one that was abandoned and forgotten?"

"Yeah. We met a woman there, Lenore. She was a banshee, like me. She was the only one who wasn't taken. I guess the Ghost Riders liked the idea of leaving the harbinger of death behind. Anyways, it made me realize that every banshee I've met – their stories haven't ended well. Lenore spent 30 years living alone in a ghost town with her conjured son. Meredith was basically driven mad by her powers and others trying to use them for their own benefit. And my own grandmother did go mad before she was finally murdered. But they all have something in common. They all ended up alone. And, here lately, it has felt like the same thing was happening to me. Everyone around me has died, and I'm the one left behind, all alone."

"Oh Lydia, sweetheart, you're not alone, I promise. You're not. I'm here, Mason and Corey are coming back, Scott and Stiles are going to bring everyone back. We've even got Derek," she paused to look over at the prone body set atop the Nemeton, "who is as talkative as ever." They both laughed slightly at that. "Just because the banshees you've met haven't had happy endings, that doesn't mean you won't get one. I've seen this Pack pull off some pretty remarkable, darn near impossible feats. And they, we, will do it again."

"Yeah, you're right," Lydia replied, shaking her head slightly as she pulled herself together. "This is the best chance we've had in over two years. As long as everyone makes it back to life safely, we will all be together, in one spot, and we can end this war for good."

Just then, they heard more sounds in the far-off distance, almost like a battle taking place. "But, I do hope those two make it back safely, and soon," Melissa said, standing as she strained her ears to try and hear more of what was taking place, though it was much too far away for her to be successful. Eventually the sounds died back down, as though the peace had been restored or one side had been victorious. "Do you think the silence is a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked, turning towards her younger friend. Lydia simply shrugged noncommittally, eyes fixed on a section of the barrier around the Nemeton that had begun to fog up.

"I think we are about to find out," she whispered, dragging Melissa along to hide in the tent they had constructed a few hours earlier.

-o-

The eleven packmates found themselves piled together in the Portcullis once again, this time with only two doors (directly across from one another) left. Several of the group, mostly Brett, grumbled at ending up thrown together in a heap like this again, while the rest took in their surroundings, including their newest addition. Ethan and Jackson were forced to break apart when Isaac had landed on top of the two of them, which in turn caused Ethan to finally recognize the rest of them were there.

"Um, here," Scott said, face red with embarrassment as he handed the wolf some wadded up material, "these were in that room, and I thought you might want to…" he trailed off, obviously uncomfortable saying anything more. Ethan wordlessly snatched the clothes from his alpha and hurriedly put them on before retreating back to stand sandwiched between his brother and mate.

"So, is anyone going to explain what's going on, or are we all just going to stand here and stare awkwardly at one another all day?" Ethan finally asked, eyes roaming over the various faces surrounding him.

Stiles began to reply, "Well Ethan…"

"Welcome to Hell," Isaac interjected before he could finish with a grin, receiving a death glare from Stiles in response and a chorus of groans and laughs from the others.

"That's my line," Stiles pouted, causing another round of chuckles before Scott reined them in.

"What do you remember?" Scott asked, drawing closer to Ethan and smacking his best friend on the shoulder playfully along the way. Ethan watched them carefully before replying.

"I died," he said plainly, though wrapping an arm more tightly around his brother who had shuddered at the pronouncement. "After Jackson was killed," he stole a glance at his mate, a wounded look in his eye, "I just…well, I just couldn't take it anymore. Everyone who was left reminded me of what I had lost, and, I guess, I just didn't want to keep going. Not with packlife, not with pretending we were going to win this fight. I mean, what would have been the point? So I left, went off to the woods and waited. It didn't take long for some of Monroe's hunters to find me. I did take a couple of them with me though." He said it with a nonchalant shrug, but they could all tell he was struggling with this story.

"When I died, I arrived in this world at a huge set of gates surrounded by people. I knew Jackson and Aiden had to be around somewhere, so I took off in search of them. I kept looking for months, but I never found so much as a trace of either of you guys." He stopped to take them both in again, an arm clenched tightly around each as though he was afraid to let either of them go. "It was maybe a month or two ago that I came across a really strange tunnel. It had these marking all over the walls. Some of them looked like Druid symbols, but others were something else entirely. It had this…I don't know really what to call it, a pull I guess…I was drawn to it and started walking down it. As I did, I felt myself getting younger, regressing back to when I was a newly bitten teen wolf. And then, when I reached the end of the cave, I was…well, I was in that warehouse. I froze, it brought back so many painful memories, and the next thing I know I'm being grabbed and dragged into the office and reliving those memories. After that…well, you saw what happened."

"Ethan, I'm so, so sorry for what happened to you," Scott began before Ethan waved him off.

"It's certainly not your fault. And my time in your Pack taught me a lot and helped me move past all that. I'm sorry I left you guys behind instead of staying and fighting with you."

"It's ok, we understand," Scott replied. "Though actually, if you are serious about that, there's something you should know." Scott launched into the story, filling Ethan in on what had happened in his absence and what the group was now trying to do. Stiles was uncharacteristically quiet through the process, seemingly lost in thought, though Derek and a few others interjected from time to time. By the end of it, Ethan was dumbfounded, staring incredulously between Scott, Jackson, and Aiden.

"Are you guys a part of this?" he asked them, eyes still darting back and forth between the two.

"Yeah, of course," Jackson said with a grin.

"Scott offered, and I did accept," Aiden said, much more carefully.

"Then I'm in too. Whatever it takes to win this and have these two in my life again. Though, I gotta admit, its really strange seeing the two of you together," Ethan said, frowning slightly.

"It was kind of strange meeting your brother, and a little intimidating," Jackson admitted, causing Ethan to level his brother with a fierce glare.

"What? I had to make sure he understood our ground rules," Aiden replied, trying to look offended and failing miserably. His defense caused Ethan to burst into laugher though.

"You…you told him…I wish I could have seen the look…oh that's too good!" he said, doubling over with laughter at the thought. Aiden looked rather smug while Jackson just looked embarrassed and helpless.

Derek, meanwhile, was scrutinizing Stiles with intensity. Finally, his curiosity won out. "Stiles, you're being awfully quiet. What are you thinking about?"

"Huh, what?" Stiles said, startled out of his reverie. "Oh, its nothing."

"Stiles," Derek growled, warningly, gathering the attention of the rest of the group.

"Fine," the young man replied, shaking his head and gathering his thoughts. "It was what Ethan described, the tunnel with the runes and symbols. It sounds an awful lot like the tunnel we went down before we found Isaac."

"You mean the one that turned us into mice?" Nolan interrupted, shivering at the thought.

"Yes," Stiles continued, "that transformative magic, those symbols, I'd be willing to bet it's the same."

"But," Scott said, slowly catching on to the implications of where this was going, "I thought you said that it was a combination of Druid and Demon magic, and that only you should be able to do that."

"The one we went through _was_ a combination of Druid and Demon magic, and I _should_ be the only one who can do that. You have to have both to use both. But this sounds more and more like there might be another Druid/Demon hybrid out there – and if these transformation tunnels are any indication, I don't think they are up to anything good." Stiles finished, his expression grim.

"The magic is breakable though," Noshiko spoke up, surprising them as she did. "You said earlier that you were able to undo the mouse spell, and clearly something happened to undo the de-aging spell on Ethan. We are capable of fighting these things, so at the moment I don't think they are our primary concern."

"She's right," Derek picked up. "We have a limited time frame to work with, so we need to prioritize. Unless we end up having to fight this Demon/Druid person, we should continue focusing on finding our pack."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Stiles said, though he didn't look all that convinced.

"Well, if we are all in agreement," Scott began, making eye contact with each of his packmates before moving over to the door closest to him and knocking on it the requisite three times.

The face that emerged was long and narrow, looking stretched and slightly disfigured. It took them by surprise, since the first four had all been very human and recognizable. "Hello, Scott," the face said, its voice fluctuating between high and low, almost as though two different voices were trying to speak at the same time. "You are ready for another riddle, yes?" it asked. By this point, everyone had drawn closer together, on edge because of the differences and abnormality of this face.

"Yes," was all Scott said in reply.

"Good, good. Listen closely. I am one who joined you from a land far away, drawn to the Beacon like a moth to a flame. Though radically different, and only together for a short while, our time together brought me great joy. The way forward must be opened by the one who brought me forth into the world, the one I am closest to and long to see once again. Who am I?" the face looked pained as it spoke, contorting in weird positions while the voice continued to modulate between the two pitches. When it was finished, it quickly receded back into the wood grain, leaving a very dumbstruck group in its wake.

"Well that was different," Stiles said unnecessarily.

"I'll say," Scott said, "though I think this riddle might be easier to figure out than the others." He paused to look at the elderly woman on the other side of the room.

"You think its Kira," she said, more a statement than a question, her expression contemplative.

"From a land far away, drawn to Beacon Hills, radically different, only with us for a short while. It all fits," he replied simply.

"And I suppose, as the 'one who brought her forth into the world,' that would make me the one to open the door," Noshiko continued, moving forward slowly as she spoke.

"It would make sense," Derek said, though he didn't look too sure of himself, still mostly staring at the door.

"There's something off about this one. I don't trust it, the way that face was all contorted, there's something else going on here," Stiles grumbled, also staring at the door in question.

"But, we don't know if that's a problem or not. We don't really know anything about this Portcullis other than that it's supposed to be helping us find our missing packmates. As we keep saying, most of the riddles have been meant literally. And this is about as literal as it gets," Scott said, defending his answer.

"I suppose," was the only response he got from his best friend.

"Well, let's find out," Noshiko finished, striding forward, grasping the handle, turning, and calling out "Kira Yukimura."

As she did, the face morphed into an actual, strikingly handsome looking face, its expression turning to one of horror. "I'm sorry!" it cried out just before the blinding light enveloped them once again. They landed in a field, the smell of death all around them.

"Come now, Noshiko. I thought you of all people would know better than to trust a riddle about a fox," a man said from his position atop a pile of bodies. The Pack drew close together for protection, all staring at the man in confusion except for Stiles and Noshiko.

"Nogitsune," she breathed out, causing a ripple of fear to run through them all.


	19. The Rage of the Fox

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: As always, I would love to hear your thoughts as the story progresses. Hopefully, if you've made it this far, you are enjoying it. Let me know!

Chapter 19: The Rage of the Fox

Fear rippled through the Pack like an electric current. Stiles, his expression one of pure horror, began backing away almost instantly. Scott and Derek remained in place, trying to position themselves between the Pack and the enemy, but their anxiety poured off them anyway. Isaac and Ethan seemed to be waging war within themselves, shifting between fear and anger. Aiden gave in to the fear completely, his face going pale as a ghost and his body visibly shaking. Noshiko remained the calmest of those who had encountered this foe before, though the werewolves could smell the fear she was trying to hide. For the rest who had never come face-to-face with the trickster spirit, (Jackson, Nolan, Brett, Lori, Theo) nervousness reigned supreme. Seeing the reactions of their friends was unnerving, to say the least, and the stories they had been told were all the warning they needed to know that this was not someone to mess with.

The man/creature watched them with a haunting intensity, laughing to himself as he stepped down from his pile of bodies to approach them. They, in turn, backed up a few steps, something he seemed to find even more amusing. As he came into the light, they were all able to get a proper look at him. He was dressed in a slightly charred old army jacket, his face and hands completely wrapped in gauze. The only exposed part of his body was the mouth: a mottled, black mess that showed firsthand the damage fire can do to a human body and a glimpse of the madness that lay beyond.

"Did you miss me, my sweet?" he asked, turning his head at an odd angle to face Noshiko Yukimura.

"I told you long ago to leave Rhys' body and memories alone. He does not deserve to be forced to do your bidding," she replied.

"Ahh, that you did. But, you see…it's just so much fun," the trickster said, spinning in a slow circle as he spoke. "It's so rare to find a good body that can strike fear into the hearts of mortals without having to even lift a finger. I just can't bear to part with it. Although…" he paused again, potentially to stare at Stiles, though it was hard to tell with his eyes covered by the bandages, "I could be persuaded to rejoin my last host. We had so much fun together, didn't we Stiles?"

"You leave him alone!" Scott interjected with a roar as Derek hunched down next to him, preparing to launch himself into battle.

"I'm…I'm stronger than that now. I won't let you into my head again, you monster," Stiles said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"Monster? Monster?! You cut me to the quick, Stiles," the Nogitsune replied, taking another menacing step forward but pausing at the growls he received from several of the wolves. "I'm no monster, I'm just a fun-loving chaos spirit." The creature laughed – a vile, hideous sound – before suddenly jerking his limbs at odd angles and transforming before their eyes into a mirror image of the one he was mocking. "There," Nogitsune said, the voice unmistakably Stiles', "perhaps your friends will prefer this look. After all, its what they are used to seeing when they look at me."

Most of the newcomers who had never faced this foe before watched the exchange in equal parts horror and wonder. Those who had faced him were in a combination of hatred, fear, and pain. Stiles went rigid at the transformation, even his scent shifting and fading as though he temporarily shut down. When he regained his senses, he was absolutely livid, shifting through his own transformation (into a demon) almost instantly and shouting with its deep, ferocious voice, "How dare you use my body like that! I will not be your puppet again! We beat you before and we will do it again!" He stomped forward towards the front of the group before the enemy spoke again, cutting him short.

"My, my, my," Nogitsune said cheerfully, seemingly giving the young man an appraising glance, "you have become quite the monstrous creature all on your own, haven't you? What you must have done to bind yourself to one of the creatures of the Underworld. It puts my work to shame. Surely you must see the irony, Stiles, of _you_ possessing a demon."

There were a number of gasps rippling through the Pack. For some, who had only briefly heard the story of Stiles' demon half and how he came to possess it, doubts began to grow. Derek himself, though he knew more of this story than any of them, also found himself questioning. _He won't talk about it, or give the details of what he did. And he refused to consider helping me to do it also. What did he do to take over that demon?_

"Enough!" Noshiko shouted, stepping forward to place herself between the Pack and Nogitsune. "You used the name of my daughter to bring us here. What have you done with her?"

"The baby kitsune with no control? I haven't done anything with her. She is as lost to me as she is to you, I'm afraid," the Void-Stiles replied, taking too much pleasure in doing so. Noshiko tensed up at the response while Scott let out a low growl. "I simply noticed what that Underworld Teleportation thing was doing and used its riddles to bring you to me."

"What do you want with us?" Scott asked, his wolf form beginning to take over on its own.

"I thought we might play a little game," Nogitsune-Stiles answered with a grin. "We never finished the last one. Your ridiculous Divine Move does not count. So what do you say, Scotty? Care to finish what we started?"

"Don't do it, Scott!" Derek said, grabbing the alpha's shoulder, "don't play into his trap. We need to get out of here, find the others, that's what we need to finish."

"And how are you going to do that, _sourwolf,"_ their enemy interjected, causing several vicious snarls to be directed his way at the use of Stiles' nickname for Derek. "I have captured the Portcullis. There is no escape from this place unless you can defeat me. The only moves you can make on this board are to fight me or join me."

"I think we can take him," Brett interjected, feigning confidence. "There's 12 of us and 1 of him. I like those odds."

"He's right Scott," Nogitsune said, slinking closer to the alpha, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You'll never get this chance again. Think of it. The opportunity to avenge the deaths of your friends and make up for the harm done to the rest. I know how much you want that. Your pack will be stronger…safer…if you do it."

Scott dug his claws into his hands, drawing blood in his attempt to keep his emotions in check. He stared into the face of his best friend, twisted and deformed by the sick pleasure this creature drew from toying with them, and sighed. "No," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving the piercing gaze stolen from his friend, "I will not fight you."

Void-Stiles let out an angry shout, before straightening back up and chuckling to himself. "Oh Scott. Always trying to play the hero and the pacifist. You make it sound like I'm giving you a choice in the matter," he laughed again, his gaze scanning the Pack as a whole. Without warning, he lunged at Scott, knocking the Alpha to the ground with a firm grip around his neck before anyone had a chance to do anything. Isaac and Theo reacted first, grabbing the Stiles lookalike and pulling him off their leader with a heave. Nogitsune was still laughing as they did so. "There! Now that's more like it. Come on boys, let's have some fun!"

Scott jumped to his feet, rubbing his neck and coughing slightly as he regained composure. "No," he said again, more sternly than before. "I'm done here. We've beaten you once, we've already proven that you are no match for our Pack. We don't need any more senseless violence."

"Senseless? It's not senseless. It's delicious!" Void-Stiles replied, causing Demon-Stiles to gasp as realization hit him.

"That's what this is about? Your appetite for pain and chaos?" he mused, more a statement than a question.

"Indeed," was the reply. "In a way, I should be thanking you. I've never, in over a thousand years, been somewhere where there is so much strife for me to eat. To you this world may be hell, but to me its as close to heaven as we'll ever get."

"Then what do you need us for? If its all so great, why don't you just go out there and keep eating it up, or whatever it is you do?" Aiden asked, storming forward to stand directly in front of the creature still sandwiched between Isaac and Theo.

"I need you," Nogitsune replied, "the same way a gourmet restaurant needs to import exotic food. _Your_ pain, all of your pack's pain, it was the best I've ever tasted, and I have _sooo_ craved it since being locked away in that stupid box and then ending up down here. This world is great, a buffet feast of a sort, but I _long_ for the delicious delicacies I got from you." He ended by licking his lips, giving Aiden a hungry stare.

"You're sick!" Aiden shouted, slamming his fist into Void-Stiles' face hard enough to knock him from Isaac and Theo's grip to land sprawled back on the ground. He simply laughed as he got back up, twisting his broken nose into place and wiping a smear of blood on his shirt.

"Yes!" He cried, "that's exactly what I want! Give me more!" Aiden lunged forward, but Ethan was there to cut him off, desperately holding his brother back.

"No, don't do it. Don't give in to him and let him take control," Ethan whispered into his twin's ear. "I lost you once. I can't bear losing you again." His eyes bristled with tears that he refused to let fall as he clung to his brother.

Void-Stiles closed his eyes, an expression of delight on his face. "Mmm, delicious," he moaned, "yes! That's what I want, that's what I've been missing."

"Umm guys," Nolan whispered from his usual spot behind Stiles, "who are they?" He pointed to six figures that had materialized in a circle around the group.

"Oni," Isaac breathed out, the word catching in his throat. Those who had encountered these creatures before instantly drew closer, forming a tight circle for protection.

"No, not again," Aiden whimpered, drawing Jackson and Ethan even closer to him.

"How dare you use my Oni again. This is not what they were created for. I will not tolerate your perversion of my powers any longer!" Noshiko cried out before diving directly at Void-Stiles, her katana waving wildly through the air as she did so.

A moment later, one of the Oni cut her off, its own blade meeting hers with a fierce clang a few inches from the trickster spirit's face. Void-Stiles stared at the exchange with a mad gleam in his eyes before throwing his head back and laughing hysterically. "Attack!" he cried out, once he regained his composure. He remained where he stood as the other five Oni dove forward, their blades attempting to cut through the Pack. The wolves jumped into action, shifting and meeting the attack head-on.

"How do we kill these things?" Theo cried out as he darted forward, sinking his claws into the arm of an Oni only to have the creature disappear and rematerialize behind him. The Oni swung its weapon down precariously close to Theo's head before it was caught in mid-air by Isaac, allowing Theo a moment to roll out of harm's way.

"You can't" Isaac grunted, straining to keep his hold on the Oni's blade without being injured by it. "The only thing that can kill them is being hit by silver."

"Seriously?" Theo asked, ramming his shoulder into the creature and knocking it back a few steps. The Oni remained silent, lunging forward to strike once more.

The Pack slowly began to spread out, their various battles gaining intensity quickly. In one corner of the field, Brett and Lori fought an Oni, the siblings using their knowledge of one another's moves and abilities to create a fearsome team and keep the creature from doing any real damage. A few yards away from them, Jackson and the twins were engaged in combat with two of the horrid things, with the twins' knowledge of one another's movements the only thing giving them a real edge to the battle. Derek, Scott, and Nolan fought another two Oni near the center of the field, though they were struggling far more than the others as the wolves did their best to protect the lone human while they fought. Demon-Stiles and Noshiko launched themselves directly at the Nogitsune and first Oni; theirs easily being the fiercest battle.

Though he looked like the very human, very easily injured Stiles, Nogitsune was a powerful adversary. Demon-Stiles, still enraged at seeing his face staring back at him from his enemy, fought with a ferocity that none of them had yet seen. But, it seemed, the two were evenly matched, neither managing to do any serious damage to the other. Noshiko continued fighting off the strongest of the Oni while occasionally throwing a few swings of her katana at Void-Stiles to help their Stiles gain an edge on him, but they remained unsuccessful.

"Jackson!" Ethan shouted as the battle raged on, "hold them off for just a moment. Aiden, we need to merge." The others didn't respond verbally, instead jumping into position. Jackson darted forward, placing himself between the twins and the Oni. Aiden grabbed onto Ethan's arm, merging their bodies into one whole. The result was not what they were hoping for though. The merged wolf grew to its usual height, but it was gangly, bones brittle and weak. One of the Oni was able to slip past Jackson's defenses, landing a solid punch to Voltron wolf's arm, shattering it and causing the wolf to howl in pain. The twins split apart, returning to their normal selves and allowing their injured arms to heal.

"Why didn't it work?" Aiden called out to his brother as he jumped back into battle to protect his potential future brother-in-law. "Why did we come out all deformed like that instead of stronger like usual?"

"I don't know," Ethan called back, also jumping into the fray to help the two men he loved most. "Unless…" he trailed off as he pummeled one of the Oni several times with his fists.

"Unless what?" Aiden asked as he jumped onto the back of the other Oni, holding it in place while Jackson clawed at it.

"We're not identical anymore," Ethan replied, his voice mournful and scared as he did so. "Because I lived for a couple more years after you died." The three lapsed into silence as they returned their complete attention to their fight.

"Lori, watch out!" Brett shouted as his sister ducked out of the way of a blade flying through the air. She cried out in pain for a moment as she rolled away from the Oni, a spot on her arm dripping blood.

"It's just a scratch, I'm fine!" she yelled before Brett could rejoin her. They were now on opposite sides of their attacker, and took advantage of it by charging at the Oni simultaneously. It vanished just before they could sink their claws into it, both jumping back before they accidentally hit one another and regaining their balance as the Oni's blade came swinging through the air directly at their heads.

"Scott, this isn't working," Derek said, his back to the alpha wolf as they fought their Oni. "We can't do anything to weaken or defeat these guys on our own. We need a better plan."

"I know, I know!" Scott called back, darting forward as Nolan managed to grab hold of the Oni's arm long enough to give Scott a good opening before being flung to the ground. They heard an audible snap, the wolves cringing as they turned to see Nolan clutching his ankle in agony on the ground a few feet away. "Nolan!" Scott shouted, somersaulting to stand over his injured packmate in order to protect him.

Noshiko watched all of this going on while maintaining her battle with the Oni and Nogitsune. "Stiles," she called out, catching both Demon and Void versions' attention in the process. "We need silver, or else we're going to lose your friends. Is there anyway you can get us some?"

Void-Stiles eyes' gleamed brightly at the pronouncement; he paused to take in the chaos going on around him. It was enough for Demon-Stiles to land a solid punch to his face and send him sprawling to the ground. "I don't know," he panted, "maybe. I won't be able to do that and continue fighting though."

"Do what you need to do, I'll handle these two," Noshiko replied, a faint aura of fire beginning to gleam around her as she turned and dashed forward, screaming as she swung her katana at the Oni.

-o-

Corey and Mason wended their way silently through the trees, ears listening for the slightest disturbance that might give away that someone was close to discovering them. They could still hear, off in the distance, the faint sounds of the hunters' outpost. The wailing siren cut out, leaving only the sounds of angry men and women and the occasional order given over the loudspeakers. The two hidden teens stuck close to the well-worn path, hoping their footprints would blend in with those of the ones who had trodden through here before. Apprehension and anxiety filled the air as they continued forward, hoping both to make it back to safety and not accidentally lead the danger to their hideout.

"This was a terrible idea," Corey groaned, jumping nearly a foot in the air when a nearby frog croaked.

"Hey, hey, Cor, come on, you need to calm down," Mason said, attempting to be soothing in spite of his own nervousness and fear.

"Calm down!" Corey whisper yelled, causing both of them to cringe. "We're going to die…again…before we've even been alive for a full day."

"No we're not," Mason replied, this time his voice laced with resolve and strength. "We have made it this far, and we are not going to fail. None of us are. You and I are going to make it back to that clearing, we're going to get this marker set up so that Nolan can come back, and then the rest of the Pack are all going to come join us and we are going to live happily ever after!"

Corey stared at him, dumbstruck by his outburst, before Mason reddened in embarrassment. "Happily ever after?" he asked, cheekily.

"You know what I mean," Mason said, turning to look down the path and avoiding his boyfriend's eyes. "This…this has to go right. After everything that's happened, everything we've been through. It just…it has to go right."

They both lapsed into silence for a moment, staring off into space and lost in thought. "You're right," Corey finally replied, breaking them both out of their reverie. "It's like Deaton and Scott used to say, things can't stay all good or all bad, they have to get back to the middle, that progression to the mean."

"It's actually _regression_ to the mean," Mason said with a smirk.

"Whatever," Corey laughed slightly, leaning forward to plant a chaste kiss on his boyfriend's lips. "It means things have to eventually balance out, right?"

"Right."

"So then," Corey said, pausing again before continuing, "I guess…we need to do what we can to make that happen."

"Exactly. Are you ready to get moving again?" Mason asked, concern practically pouring off of him.

"I guess," Corey shrugged, "mostly I'm just ready for all of this to be over. I'm tired of running, and fighting, and being afraid." The two began to walk again, remaining in silence as they continued on down the path. The sounds of the outpost completely faded into the distance, replaced by the more calming and natural sounds of the forest around them.

It took them another half an hour, but they eventually reached the clearing that housed the Nemeton. With fierce determination, they managed to press through Stiles and Lydia's barrier, struggling not to give into the temptation to leave and do something else caused by the magic surrounding the encampment.

"Hey guys, we're back!" Corey called out to the silent campground cautiously. "Lydia? Mrs. McCall? Where are you?"

-o-

Noshiko let loose in a way she hadn't for centuries, the fox-fire teaming around her and pouring off in waves. It was an awesome sight to behold, though none of the others were able to spare more than a second or two to watch. She attacked the Oni and Nogitsune with a ferocity they could not match, driving them backwards towards the pile of bodies in the middle of the field. "You have caused so much pain, so much destruction. It is time for you to be finished once and for all!"

"And you think _you_ are going to be the one to stop me?" Void-Stiles asked, laughing even as he was forced to duck away from her blade. "Look! You may have summoned me. You may have once imprisoned me. And you may have been part of that stupid charade that sent me here. But you _cannot_ defeat me. Neither can Scott, or Derek, or Stiles the ridiculous demon. I will get what I want, and I will enjoy every…last…second…of it!"

"Oh, shut up you infernal creature!" she shouted once more, swinging the katana and nearly decapitating the Nogitsune before his Oni bodyguard could sweep in and parry the hit.

Meanwhile, Demon-Stiles flew towards Scott's group, landing in a heap next to the injured Nolan. "Are you ok?" he asked, placing a tentative hand on Nolan's ankle, which he immediately withdrew when the young man screamed in pain.

"I think…it's broken," Nolan panted, fighting back tears as he tried to keep from moving his leg. Scott and Derek did their best to fight off the two Oni surrounding them, but it was a struggle.

"I've only learned a couple of healing spells, and I've never actually done any of them, but if you want I could try to heal it for you," actual Stiles said, having shifted out of demon form and back to human.

"Yes, please!" Nolan cried, grabbing ahold of Stiles' arm and holding it fiercely.

"I'm going to need my arm to do it though," Stiles replied, looking down at the vice-like grip.

"Oh, sorry," Nolan said sheepishly, letting go and drawing in a deep breath as another wave of pain swept through him. Stiles waved it off before cracking his knuckles and settling down on the ground in front of the injured boy to reach out his hands and place them gently on the broken ankle. He said something that was completely unintelligible to the human and the wolves protecting them before his eyes glowed bright silver for a moment and his hands vibrated with a yellow light emanating from underneath them. Nolan yelped and jumped back, feeling like he had just touched a hot stovetop, before realizing that his ankle was no longer broken. "Wow," he said, holding his leg out and admiring Stiles' handiwork, "thank you!"

"You're welcome," Stiles replied, waving it off. "How does it feel?"

"It still hurts a bit," Nolan answered, tentatively getting to his feet, "but I can handle it."

"Good. Now, I need you to rejoin Scott and Derek in fighting these two Oni. I'm going to try to get us some weapons we can use against them, but it will probably take all of my concentration," Stiles said, repositioning himself so he sat cross-legged in the center of the fight.

"Does that mean you have a plan?" Derek asked, his voice coming out jagged through heavy breaths.

"Not really. I have no idea if this will actually work or not, but I have to try," Stiles answered, not bothering to look up at the wolf. Instead, he began drawing in the dirt on the ground, humming slightly to himself as Nolan rejoined the battle to help Derek gain the upper hand on his Oni.

"I believe in you, Stiles," Scott said from behind his best friend before letting out a roar and charging at his opponent.

"You've got us this far," Derek added, "I believe you can do it too, like that riddle earlier said."

"I hope you're right," Stiles muttered under his breath, "and I hope you're ok with what happens when its all over." He spared just a quick glance up at the three Packmates fighting around him, but none of them heard his comments. He let out a sigh, centering his mind, finished his drawings, and began to call on his Druid powers. He knew no spell that could magically give them the silver they needed, but perhaps he could find an alternative. He slowly drifted, lost in thought and absorbed by the power and connectedness he felt to the world (both that of the living and the dead). Stiles became so absorbed in what he was doing that he alone did not react when the ear-splitting scream echoed across the field.


	20. The Fox's Last Stand

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi everyone! A special thank you to kkalphwolf for your kind review! We are now officially at the halfway point of this story (I think)! My current outline has forty chapters, with some potential for follow-up stuff if there is any interest. That's a ways down the road yet though. In other news, a friend of mine read through the story recently and had a few questions. I figured I'd take a moment and answer them here, in case you were wondering about these as well. If not, feel free to skip down to the actual chapter. And if you have any other questions, feel free to ask!

Q: Why didn't Derek become an alpha when Scott died?

A: I wanted to stick as close to canon as possible (though obviously I've made a few tweaks here and there). Scott's "true alpha" status supposedly cannot be taken from him except by a beta of his own making (or Belasko's claws, maybe, idk, at this point I think the writers weren't giving much thought to what they were doing). I went with the assumption that, if it can't be taken from him except by his own beta, then it can't be inherited by a beta he didn't personally create either. In this story, Liam and Hayden both die before Scott, and he hasn't created any other betas, therefore the alpha power simply died with him, making Derek an omega wolf.

Q: What happened to Alec (the kid Scott saves in the final episode)?

A: That's one of the things I tweaked. For this story, Monroe and her forces didn't fall apart quite as much as they did at the end of season 6, hence she is able to kill them off back in chapter 1 with relative ease over the course of about a year after the show ended. Scott and Co. never regained enough footing to go on the offensive, and so they weren't around to help Alec. I haven't given him much thought, to be honest, but presumably he is dead by now, and running around Limbo somewhere. Who knows, maybe he'll show up sometime, though I doubt it would happen in this story (maybe the potential sequel, it would make more sense there).

Q: What is Stiles hiding from Derek and the others?

A: Can't answer that one; at least, not yet. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise.

Q: Why is Nolan so attached to Stiles (since I have him frequently either near to, or hiding behind, Stiles)?

A: So, this one just sort of happened on its own, but there are a couple of reasons why I think it would make sense. Logically speaking, of the Pack members that Nolan knows, Stiles is the one least likely to hold any real grudge or animosity towards him. Presumably they would have known each other before Stiles graduated (going to the same school, being on the lacrosse team together), though not very well obviously. Then Stiles was gone while Nolan joined forces with Monroe and fought the others. By the time Stiles returns, Nolan has switched sides, so Stiles has no reason to be upset with him apart from his usual suspicious nature and secondhand offense based on what the others tell him. Nolan died before he could do too much reconciling/making amends, so things are still pretty awkward on that front. Stiles also meets the needs that Nolan is trying to fill throughout his appearances in the show (namely friendship and protection), so Nolan likes being around him. The others could do that for him too, but he's still wary of the wolves, given his past experiences. Nolan's never fought a demon, so while the demon form Stiles takes puts him on edge, I think he's still more comfortable with that than the werewolves.

Chapter 20: The Fox's Last Stand

 _What does it say about you, when it doesn't actually bother you to be in Hell, fighting a Japanese demon-spirit while the man you…care for…who, incidentally, can turn into an actual demon, is trying to use his Druid powers to summon silver to kill said Japanese demon-spirit's conjured henchman? How has this become my life? Or afterlife? Except, I'm not dead, at least not yet. So…life, temporarily displaced. Everything was so much simpler before Scott and Stiles, before all this other stuff took over. But, at the same time, I wouldn't trade this life for something else either. Not now. Not after everything we've been through. Not when there is still so much I want to…do…with him. Not when I can hear him calling my name off in the distance._

"Derek?"

 _Stiles, why are you so far away? You should definitely come closer._

"Derek!"

 _There, that's much better._

"Derek! No, no, no, no, no, please, come on, you have to be ok!"

 _Stiles, why wouldn't I be ok? You're here._

"Come on, Derek! You gotta wake up!"

 _Wake up? But I'm not asleep. Am I?_

"Scott! I'm not getting any response here."

"Keep trying!" _That's Scott's voice._ "I don't know how much longer I can hold them off." _Wait, what's going on?_

"Derek? Alright, listen buddy, you gotta wake up. I need you here!"

 _Stiles?_ "St…Stiles?" Derek slurred, groggy, his mind reeling as he tried to sit up.

"Derek! You're alive!" Stiles threw himself around the older man in a fierce hug, before quickly pulling back and recovering his composure. "Well, as much as anyone in Limbo can be anyway."

"Stiles, what happened?" Derek asked, his vision and hearing refocusing to take in his surroundings.

"You took a bad hit from one of the Oni. For a moment I wasn't sure if you survived. But you did, thankfully, and now we really need to get you back on your feet." Stiles wasted no time, interrupting whatever comment Derek was about to make by placing his hands on the wolf's chest, chanting another brief incantation, and stepping back after his eyes flashed silver and they both felt an electric shock.

"Whoa, what did you just do?" Derek fumbled, reaching to feel the area of his chest that stung a bit from the contact.

"I gave you an energy jumpstart. I won't be able to do it again, so use it wisely. We need you back in this fight," Stiles said grimly, pulling him to his feet in the process.

"What's happened?"

"Lori's injured, she was cut by an Oni's blade, and the wound seems to be getting worse. We're outmatched here. I've been trying to get us some silver, but I don't think I can. There just isn't any here in the Underworld for me to draw to us, at least not any that's close enough to this spot for me to reach it. We're rapidly running out of options," Stiles spoke while transforming back into demon form and moving to rejoin the fight alongside Scott and Nolan. Derek glanced around, seeing the battle-weary packmates scattered across the field. Only Noshiko seemed to still be fighting at full strength, the bright aura of light shining off her, illuminating their battles far more than the ever-present drab gray glow of Limbo.

Off to one side of the clearing, a bloodied and weary Isaac fought alongside an even worse looking Theo against a lone Oni. Though they had the numerical advantage, they were clearly outmatched, the Oni's movements every bit as precise and calculated as always against the quickly failing strength of the wolf and chimera. Not too far from their battle, Jackson and the twins were still holding their own against two Oni. It was obvious all three were tired, but they worked seamlessly together, managing to keep their opponents at bay. On the other side of the clearing, Brett and Lori were not quite so fortunate. Lori's wound from earlier had seemed to be just a light a scratch, but as time wore on it worsened, growing into a much deeper cut and nearly paralyzing her arm. Brett struggled to both protect her and fight the Oni. Sweat poured down his face and arms as he continued to slash at the creature, but to little avail.

Derek clambered to his feet and took in the remaining battle. With Demon-Stiles joining them, Scott and Nolan began a new attack on their pair of Oni, driving them backwards with a non-stop assault of fangs, claws, and fists. They seemed to be winning, but for the fact that the Oni almost effortlessly parried every blow before it could find its target. _We can't win this fight,_ Derek thought to himself. _All of the searching, the planning, the preparation…its all going to end here. And before I even had a chance to tell him that…I…love…NO! It's not going to end here! We've fought too hard, lost too much for this to be where our story ends._ Spurred back into action, Derek launched himself forward into the battle with his alpha and his…whatever Stiles is. "We are going to win this fight!"

Demon-Stiles glanced at him briefly, a bit of a smirk on the terrifying face as he nodded his head slightly and pounced once more onto the Oni in front of him, breaking away from the main battle to go toe-to-toe with the creature. Derek, Scott, and Nolan, left with only one Oni, quickly gained the upper hand, driving the creature back yet further into the chaos near the center of the clearing.

Void-Stiles scrambled away from Noshiko for a moment, surveying the scene around him. The field had devolved into chaos, something he took immense pleasure in. He sighed, breathing it in and letting the pain and confusion bolster his own strength. Noshiko knocked his Oni bodyguard to the ground, darting past to try to catch the Nogitsune, but she was a second too late. Rejuvenated, he spun back around to catch her blade in midair with his hand, using a speed she did not know he possessed. She refused to react apart from allowing her eyes to widen slightly, pausing just a moment before wrenching the katana out of the dark spirit's grip and spinning to counter a blow from the Oni she sensed behind her. She allowed the fox-fire surrounding her to increase a little more, giving her the necessary strength to meet this new challenge before throwing herself full force into her battle once again.

Another scream tore through the field, wrenching its way through the hearts of every pack member. They turned almost as one to see that Brett, fighting valiantly against the Oni with his injured sister, had been stabbed through the abdomen with a sword. The Oni withdrew the weapon quickly, a sickening squelch accompanying it just before Brett fell to the ground and Lori jumped between them, tears bristling in her eyes as she swiped menacing claws at the face of the demon before her. "Get away from him you monster!" Her injured arm hung limply at her side as she stared the creature down.

"Derek, go! We've got this!" Scott called out. He was halfway across the battlefield before the alpha could even finish the command, leaping across the bodies in the center and charging at the Oni with a roar. _No! We are not losing anyone today!  
_

The Oni were relentless, forcing the others to turn their attention back to their respective battles. The fight wore on, the weariness catching up to them all. _It's only a matter of time before one of us falls for good,_ Derek thought to himself as he sunk his fangs into the Oni's arm just moments before it could run Lori through the way it had her brother. _And we are powerless to stop it from happening._

-o-

Corey and Mason stared around the clearing, confused and concerned by the lack of response and the complete absence of the two women they had left behind. "Hello? Is anybody here?" Mason called out, letting go of Corey's hand to return to visibility.

"Oh, thank God, you're back!" Melissa said, stepping out from behind a makeshift tent made of very worn tarps. "We've been so worried about you both!" She ran forward, dragging Mason into a tight hug that left him reddening in the face.

"You were?" Corey asked, letting go of his invisibility to seemingly materialize out of thin air, a puzzled look on his face.

"Of course we were, you boys are part of the family, and we could hear sirens wailing and who knows what all else going on out there," Melissa replied, letting go of Mason enough to wrap Corey into her vice-like embrace as well. Neither of them seemed to mind though.

"Were you able to find something that belonged to Nolan?" Lydia asked, also stepping out from behind their tent and approaching at a more leisurely pace.

"Um, yeah, we were," Mason replied, pulling away still slightly embarrassed by the fuss and drawing Lydia's attention to the backpack he held up. Corey waited for Melissa to let go before joining his boyfriend, his arm lingering just a moment as though he couldn't quite bring himself to lose the contact yet.

"We found Nolan's backpack," Corey said, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Are you positive it belonged to him? We only get one shot at this," Lydia asked, frowning as she leaned in to inspect the bag in question.

"Yes, we're sure. We remember him wearing it, and when we found it there was some more of his stuff inside. We decided to take it out, though, and fill it instead with stuff we can actually use," Mason added, unzipping the bag and beginning to pull cans of food out to show them. "We figured, if the whole pack is going to be here soon, we needed more supplies than just what you have here."

"That…was actually really smart of you. Consider me impressed," Lydia said, before taking the bag from Mason's grip and unceremoniously dumping its contents onto the ground. She turned on her heels and began walking away.

"What was that for?" Corey asked, mildly insulted after everything he and his boyfriend had just been through.

"There's no time to waste," Lydia called over her shoulder, "I need to get this marker set up as quickly as possible. We haven't heard anything from the guys down below for a while, so we have no way of knowing what's going on or when they're going to need this. I don't want to be too late when we have a chance to save somebody." She stooped down on the ground, arranging the backpack to sit a short distance away from the keys to Stiles' jeep, the last marker they had set up.

"You're right, that makes sense," Mason replied, dragging Corey over to watch with Melissa following quickly behind them.

"Are these markers very difficult to set up?" Melissa questioned, pausing to survey the ones closest to her in the pale light of the morning sun gleaming through the canopy above them.

"Not difficult…more tedious, I'd say. The runes Stiles described have to be very precise in order to function properly," Lydia answered, frowning in concentration as she grabbed a fistful of the mountain ash/wolfsbane medley Stiles had taught her to create.

"We'll leave you to it then," Melissa said, grabbing the two boys and beginning to drag them away. "Come on, you two can help me make breakfast."

"Yes, ma'am," Mason and Corey said in unison, stealing stray glances at Lydia as she worked while following Melissa's instructions at the campfire.

It took close to an hour for both breakfast to be ready and Lydia to finish her intricate rune-making. _Just in time,_ Lydia thought to herself, though she wasn't entirely sure why. She decided to let the thought pass, content to, for the moment, enjoy the company of her friends as they shared a simple meal together. Talk quickly turned serious as they watched Derek's body. Though it remained completely still, large numbers of cuts, scrapes, and injuries began spontaneously forming all over his exposed skin. Blood seeping through his shirt told them that many more of these injuries were appearing under his clothes as well.

"Um, how much of that can he take before he…you know," Mason started before tapering off, afraid to voice what he was thinking aloud.

"I don't know," Lydia answered, stepping forward to watch as Melissa began inspecting the damage more carefully.

"What does this mean? Are they in trouble in the Underworld?" Corey asked.

"I don't know that either. He's gotten injured before while down there, but never this badly. Whatever is going on, it can't be good," Lydia replied, a faraway look in her eyes.

"He seems to be healing alright, as far as I can tell," Melissa interjected, though her voice shook slightly as she spoke. "But I don't really know what to do here," she continued, turning to Lydia, "do I treat his wounds like a regular werewolf patient, hoping the enhanced healing will take care of it? Do I treat him like a human patient, knowing that his healing will probably take care of his injuries before I can even get to them? How do I tell what to work on and what not to?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. McCall, but I don't know that either," Lydia said, turning to stare at the older woman with a haunted expression. "But I have a very bad feeling about whatever is happening down there."

"You mean, like someone is getting hurt even worse than Derek?" Corey asked, clutching Mason's arm as he spoke.

"No, like someone is about to die and be lost forever," Lydia said ominously. "Maybe even more than one."

-o-

Brett is down, a giant gaping wound in his abdomen that refuses to heal continuing to pour out blood. Lori is still fighting, though being hampered by her wounded arm has left her open to receiving several similar injuries across her body. She struggles to stand, struggles to keep breathing, keep going, but she refuses to give up and die on this battlefield.

In a lot of ways, that refusal, that determination, is the only thing keeping the Pack going. A quick glance across the battlefield shows the rest are faring little better. Derek, though untouched by the Oni's blade, has cuts up and down his arms from being thrown to the ground in his attempts to defend the siblings. He is exhausted, and it shows. Off to the other side, Isaac and Theo have resorted to taking turns fighting their Oni one-on-one in order to give each other a minute or two to catch their breath. Jackson and the twins are arguably doing the best, fighting three against two, but their punches have likewise begun to lose their force and their movements are becoming increasingly sloppy and erratic. Nolan, only human and still favoring the ankle that Stiles healed, struggles just to keep up with Scott and the Oni. He puts in a valiant effort, providing enough of a distraction to give the alpha wolf an occasional opening to sink his claws into. But even then, the futility of these battles is made all the more clear. The Oni is unfazed by the attack, uninjured and unhindered by such things as breath and stamina.

The one exception to that rule seems to be the Oni fighting their Stiles. In his demon form, the young man packs a far greater punch, and his opponent appears to falter here and there, almost as though wounded. _That is strange,_ she thinks to herself, _they've never shown weakness before, to anyone._ She cannot afford to dwell on the thought, though, as she is engaged in her own, ridiculous battle. The Nogitsune, still wearing Stiles' face like a mask, and his bodyguard (her own strongest Oni) fight on relentlessly. They struggle to keep up with her speed and strength, but, like the rest, her attacks seem to do little damage, and she knows the fox-fire she has called upon will not last indefinitely. It is no longer truly hers to command, and it will return to where it came from when it so desires. This battle will, one way or the other, end soon.

"What happened to you?" she calls out to the Nogitsune, pausing for just a moment to take in his confused expression. "Why are you like this? What tragedy caused you to turn to this way of existing?"

"I don't know what you are talking about, now stop babbling and fight me!" Void-Stiles responded with a shout as he charged forward. Noshiko parried the attack, countering it with her own before continuing.

"I know well how a nogitsune comes to be. A kitsune must feel extreme pain and loss to become one who feeds on it. What happened?" Noshiko persisted, drawing her katana into a neutral stance. Silence feel between them, the Nogitsune contemplating her with an odd expression on his face as the sounds of the various battles around the clearing continued on.

"I am surprised you have not already guessed, dear Noshiko. There is, after all, a reason it was _I_ who answered your call for revenge all those years ago and not another spirit. We are more connected than you think," Void-Stiles finally replied, an evil grin alighting his face as he swept his eyes back over the field around them and inhaled deeply.

"No, you can't be…" Noshiko responded, true fear in her eyes as she took a step back. Void-Stiles nodded his head in response as he turned once more to pierce her with his stare.

"My family was hunted down, slaughtered one by one. We were a peaceful clan, we desired to harm no one. We were not wealthy, we were not royal. We were but simple farmers. But that did not matter. It never does. These fools you've aligned yourself with are proof of that. The more things change, the more they stay the same. We were different, and they were afraid of us, afraid of our power. They were relentless. They took my mother, they took my father, they took my brother and his family. Next, they came for me. They tore me to pieces, ripped me limb from limb and kept me alive only so I could watch as they tortured and killed my wife. I swore in that moment, that if I survived, I would not rest until I had hunted each and every last one of them down and slaughtered them the way they had my family. I would make them suffer, as I had suffered. I would make them feel all the pain I had felt, and I would enjoy every last second of it! They made a mistake. I passed out shortly after my wife was killed. They assumed I was dead. After all, how could anyone possibly survive what they had done to me? They left me behind in order to chase after my twelve-year-old daughter, the only member of our family to have escaped their brutality unscathed," the Nogitsune drew steadily closer, a mad gleam in his eye as he told his story.

"No, you cannot be him. He died that day, we buried him along with my mother," Noshiko's voice shook as she attempted to deny what the Nogitsune said.

"That much is true, you buried the body of your father, _my_ body, alongside that of your mother. In my rage, I discovered we kitsune have the power to possess another's body, and so I did. As fate would have it, the first body I claimed was that of an actual fox. It sustained me until I was able to retake a human form. When I had, I sought out those who had taken everything from me, and I was every bit as brutal as they had been. I got my revenge, and oh how sweet it was. And I did it all for you, my Noshiko, to protect you from them," Void-Stiles reached out a hand, placing it gently on the face of the woman in front of him, an almost caring expression on his features. But Noshiko could see through to the madness below, and she pulled away.

"My father died in that battle. Whatever you are, regardless of where you came from, you are not him," she replied. The Nogitsune's glare turned furious. He roared in anger before diving headfirst into battle once more. It quickly became obvious he had been holding back earlier, his movements now much more precise and strong. The Oni, apparently fueled by their master's rage, redoubled their efforts as well, quickly driving the already exhausted Pack to the ground.

Another scream tore through the field, and Noshiko spared a quick glance to see the devastation around them. This time the victim was Nolan. Time ground to a halt as every eye turned to watch, the Pack in horror and their adversaries in pleasure or indifference. The Oni yanked his blade out of Nolan's stomach, where it had run clean through the boy. Nolan grasped at the wound, choking as he fell, almost in slow motion, to his knees.

"NOO!" Demon-Stiles cried, flinging his opponent to the ground before flying across the field to catch the injured boy before he could collapse completely. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, hang on, stay with me Nolan, I'll fix this, I will, I promise," Stiles stammered as he gently helped his friend to lie down while simultaneously returning to human form. "You just gotta stay with me, ok?"

"It is time for this to end," Noshiko called out, turning her gaze to fix on Void-Stiles while drawing the attention of everyone else to her.

"Oh really?" Void-Stiles replied sarcastically, "And how do you propose to do that, daughter?"

She ignored him, instead turning to Scott. "Find Kira, Scott. Find her, take her away from the Skinwalkers, and help her return to the life she deserves to live. Promise me," she commanded, eyes boring into him.

"Um, yeah, of course, but why are you…" Scott began before she cut him off.

"I lived for over 900 years," she said, turning her attention back to the Nogitsune. "I survived wars, famines, plagues, prejudice, and more. And I did it because I knew my father was a hero, one who had died to protect me and give me that chance at life. I will not allow you to take that away from me, Nogitsune." She paused for a second, allowing her fox-fire power to flare up, nearly blinding the occupants of the field.

"No! You wouldn't dare!" Void-Stiles called out as a gale-force wind began whipping around them. He struggled to stay standing, unable to move in any closer.

"I'm trusting you Scott. Do not let me down," she shouted, before jumping in the air, a string of Japanese words flowing seamlessly on the air currents around her. She hovered in midair as she continued to chant, the fire blazing all around her shifting colors as the heat became more intense. Finally, with a last strangled cry, she plummeted back to the ground, driving her katana deep into the earth and watching with contentment as cracks quickly began to spread out from it.

"I hate you," Void-Stiles managed to say before one of the cracks extended to him, sucking him into the ground and then closing up over him. The other cracks quickly spread out to the Oni dotting the landscape, avoiding the Pack and dragging the demon-spirits below as well.

Noshiko took one last look out across the field, only now recognizing it as that battlefield from so long ago when her life was changed forever and her parents were taken from her. Her eyes clenched in pain momentarily before she opened them and smiled at the group around her. "I'm glad I was able to get to know you. And I will rest peacefully knowing Kira is safe, and alive, with you as well. Farewell," she said, voice strong but quiet. For a moment the field was still. Then, suddenly, Noshiko disintegrated before their eyes, becoming dust that blew away on a gentle breeze.

"Goodbye, Noshiko," Scott whispered, watching the pieces scatter and become lost. Another moment of quiet passed, and then a familiar blinding flash of light struck them and they all felt themselves cascading backwards once more.


	21. Saying Goodbye

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hello again everyone! Work is still killing me right now, so updates will likely continue to be slow, unfortunately. If you get a chance, leave me a comment – your input is always appreciated and it encourages me to continue writing. A special thank you to Camille for doing exactly that! Without further ado, onwards…

Chapter 21: Saying Goodbye

The pack knew a brief moment of confusion and disorientation, one they had become familiar with after several of these jaunts through the Portcullis. But that was quickly shattered by an agonizing wail coming from the center of the room.

"Nolan!" Stiles half-shouted, half-cried as he continued to support the injured boy on the ground. "You gotta just hang on, ok? I'll…I'll fix this. I promise." Isaac rushed to join them, the wolf grimacing as he began to siphon off the human's pain and moving to support his weight so Stiles would be free to work.

"Scott!" Ethan called out, gaining the attention of most of the Pack. "We need your help!" Ethan mirrored Isaac's actions, taking as much pain from the injured Brett as possible. Beside him, Jackson and Theo were doing the same for Lori while nearby Aiden stood as though paralyzed by the sight. Brett's and Lori's injuries refused to heal, both of them beginning to lose large amounts of the foul-smelling black blood through the marks left by the Oni's blade that the Pack had come to associate with impending death. Scott ran to join them in the hopes of helping while Derek stooped down to join Stiles, Isaac, and Nolan in the center of the familiar, stone room.

"Isaac…Isaac! You have to stop, you're too hurt to be able to take any more of his pain," Derek called out, gently removing the wolf's hand and replacing it with his own.

"But I have to help…he needs…" Isaac was cut off before he could say any more as his former alpha gave him an odd look before turning both of their attention to the healer of the group.

"What can we do to help, Stiles?" Derek asked, his tone still gentle despite the fear and tension he radiated to all of the supernatural creatures in the room. Few noticed, however, given their own current states.

"I don't, I don't know," Stiles replied, his voice a touch hysterical and his hands shaking as he scrambled around the injured boy on the ground. "If I had more time, or if I had the right materials, I could maybe…but I don't…and I can't…and I…I…I"

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me, look at me!" Derek commanded, reaching out to grasp the younger man firmly on the shoulder and capture his attention. "This is not the time to panic. We need you here, now."

"But there's nothing I can do to save him!" Stiles cried out in response, turning his face away in shame to stare at the boy on the ground, whose skin had turned sickly pale while he struggled to breathe.

"It's…ok…Stiles," Nolan gasped out, tears welling in his eyes as he struggled to speak. "This isn't…your fault…I'm…not afraid…to die…again." Nolan stopped, coughing up blood as he tried to force himself to remain calm.

"Stiles," Isaac interjected quietly, sneaking a hand down to take some more of the boy's pain while the others were distracted. "If you can't heal him, can you send him back to life?"

"That's brilliant," Derek sighed, turning a relieved expression to Stiles while firmly removing Isaac's hand after the young wolf winced from taking too much pain again. "That'll work, won't it?"

"I don't know," Stiles replied, quietly, "we haven't had a chance to check to see if they got a marker set up for him yet. If there's no marker, I have no idea what will happen if I try to send him back."

"But if you don't, he'll be gone for good," Isaac retorted, tears of his own threatening to spill out.

"You've got to at least try," Scott said, moving to rejoin them after overhearing their conversation. "We have to do everything we can to get our Pack back."

"You're right," Stiles said with a sigh, quickly moving to dump some of whatever the material was he carried around with him out onto the floor and hurriedly drawing intricate runes into the dust and dirt. He was barely halfway through when a sudden gasp caught his attention.

"St…Stiles!" Nolan coughed, his whole upper body heaving with exertion and shaking violently as three pairs of werewolf hands struggled to both hold him down and remove his pain. Stiles was by his side instantly, cradling his head gently and soothing back his hair. "I'm sorry…I wasn't more…help to you…guys," Nolan said with a grimace that was meant to be a smile. The tears were now flowing freely down his face, unchecked, to mingle with the blood.

"Shh, none of that, you've been lots of help, and now you're going to go help the others until we all get back together…" Stiles said, trying to reassure the boy while wiping some of the muck from his face. He moved to get up and go back to drawing his runes, but Nolan stopped him.

"I…don't think…so Stiles," he rasped, his skin becoming yet paler, almost translucent as he spoke. "Thank you all…for letting…me…join you…down here…It's the first…time I've…ever felt…like I…belonged…or have friends…I'll…miss…you." He closed his eyes as his face wrenched in pain, his breathing becoming even more ragged and labored. And then, suddenly, it ceased altogether, plunging the room into silence. Nolan's entire body went limp as the Packmates gathered around him watched in horror, struggling to accept what was happening.

"No," Stiles whispered, barely audible even to the wolves. He shook the lifeless body slightly, his voice rising in pitch. "Nolan? Nolan! No, no, no, no, you can't die, you can't. I promised…I promised I'd keep you safe. I promised I would send you back to life. Come back!" He stumbled away, his voice catching in his throat as Nolan's body slowly began to fade away into nothingness before their eyes, leaving no trace of the fact that he had just been there moments before.

"He's…he's gone," Isaac said, his whole body shaking as he fought to keep control of his emotions. He wrapped his arms around his midsection tightly as Derek draped an arm over his shoulder, drawing him in to comfort him.

"He's gone," Derek repeated, grimly, unsure of what else he should, or could, say. Stiles remained on the ground, looking for all the world as though he had been knocked down in a fight as he stared at that same spot, transfixed and horrified.

"Stiles? Buddy? Are you ok?" Scott asked after a few moments of silence, moving to shake his best friend's shoulder and getting no immediate response.

"I failed," Stiles finally said, his position on the ground unwavering. "I tried so hard, I wanted to undo the damage I caused. But I failed," he finally looked up, gazing at Scott without really seeing him, his face a wall of pain and emotion. "The Nogitsune, it's all my fault. If I'd only been stronger back then, if I had never let it get its hold on me, none of this would have happened. It's my fault."

"Get a grip on yourself, Stilinski," a voice called out from the other side of the room. It was Aiden, who quickly stalked over to join the group of stunned and grieving friends. "What that monster did is not your fault. You should know that by now."

"But it is!" Stiles responded, voice tinged with both earnestness and sadness. "If I had been stronger when the Nogitsune was released…" 

"Then it would have gone after someone else, without us knowing it, and probably caused even more damage and destruction before we realized what it was doing," Aiden interjected before he could finish.

"You don't know that, not for sure," Stiles said, finally getting to his feet to stare the wolf down.

"No, but I do know that you shouldn't blame yourself for something that someone else did while controlling you. That's a lesson _you_ helped teach me, after Deucalion," Aiden crossed his arms across his chest, meeting the glare head on. "And I also know that now's not the time to give up. You can still save Brett and Lori, before they fade too. But not if you don't pull yourself together right now!"

At the mention of the injured siblings, Stiles and the others turned almost as one to check on them. In the time that had passed, their condition had worsened drastically. Theo, Jackson, and Ethan all had their eyes screwed shut as the thick, black veins of pain wove up their arms, siphoning as much as they could. It was little consolation, though. Brett and Lori were nearly drenched in a combination of sweat, tears, and blood (both red and black), and their labored breathing was all the indication the others needed that they would not last much longer. Stiles swore under his breath before diving back to the ground where his half-finished runes lay, hurriedly scrambling to finish the intricate patterns while calling out instructions to the others. "Bring them over here and lay them inside the circle. Make sure every part of their bodies is inside the lines I've drawn, I don't want to take any chances. Then make sure you are all standing far enough back."

The Pack scrambled to do as they were told, Scott and Aiden running to help the others move the wolf siblings into place while Derek half-cradled Isaac in his arms while moving the younger wolf out of the way. Stiles stepped back from his circle just as the two wolves were finished being positioned inside it, not pausing for a moment as he began his strange chant. A gentle breeze began to blow through the room, turning into a gale-force wind as Stiles' eyes began to glow and his chanting grew louder and more intense.

"Corey and Mason said it doesn't hurt, going back," Scott called out to his injured betas, trying to put on a strong front for them. "You'll be good as new. Just focus on the Nemeton and anything that connects you to the real world." The siblings nodded, both too weak and in too much pain to respond verbally.

"I need you to let the others know what's been happening," Stiles shouted, having finished his incantation and now struggling to be heard over the winds echoing through the room. "I'm probably not going to be able to check in again, at least not for a while. Tell Lydia…tell Lydia she can dismantle Nolan's marker, if she's already built one. Corey, Mason, Melissa, Lydia – they're going to need you to be their strength, in more ways than one. Promise me you'll look after them and help them…cope, with this…and with anything else they might learn later on. Can I trust you to do that?" Brett managed to open his eyes enough to briefly connect with Stiles, giving a slight, pained nod of his head, before slumping to the ground. "Good-bye you guys," Stiles whispered under his breath as the brother and sister suddenly rocketed upwards, disappearing from sight as the air around the remaining Packmates went still.

Stiles let out a sigh, collapsing to the ground and idly retracing the marks that had been blown apart by the ritual. Scott slowly walked over, silently sitting next to his best friend and carefully slinging an arm across his back to pull him into a tight hug. The crying was gentle at first, but soon Stiles' whole body was shaking, the room echoing with the sounds of his sobs. Derek still held tightly to Isaac, comforting the young wolf and trying to ease his pain. Nearby, Jackson and the twins stood huddled together, expressions stoic as they drew strength from one another. Theo stood a few paces away, eyes darting back and forth between the three groups, his face betraying his desire to join one of them and his fear that he would be rejected.

"It's ok, Stiles, you saved them, you saved Brett and Lori," Scott whispered as he fought back his own tears.

"But I lost Nolan and Noshiko," Stiles whispered back, his sobs now evening out and voice returning. The two pulled away from one another slightly to meet each other's gaze.

"That's not your fault. You did all you could. We all did. You can't blame yourself for what happened," Scott replied, shaking his brother's shoulders slightly to get his attention.

"Your friend is correct," a new voice said from a distance, instantly drawing everyone's attention as they instinctually darted to form a defensive circle around their alpha. It wasn't the best defense they'd come up with – they were all tired and injured, especially Isaac and Jackson – but they were all willing to fight to defend their friends.

"Who are you?" Scott asked, stepping forward to the front of the group. "And what do you want with us?"

"My name is Lady Portentia," the woman replied, stepping forward herself with Awarnach the dwarf at her side. She wore a pale blue dress and seemed to radiate a light of her own, one much brighter than the drab gray of Limbo. She appeared to be relatively young, yet there was an ancientness to her presence that gave the Pack a sense of wariness. Her expression remained solemn as she pierced each of the eight packmembers in turn with her gaze. "I am the Progenitor of the Portcullis of Purgatorium."

"What do you mean? I thought Awarnach there said he was in charge," Stiles interjected, eyes darting between the two.

"Did he now?" she asked, her eyes turning to the dwarf by her side for a moment with a glint of humor before returning to the young men in front of her. "I'm afraid my friend here tends to be rather less than forthcoming with his words. He means well, but it is the nature of a dwarf to say only that which is absolutely necessary, so I understand how you might have been confused. I trust Awarnach with my life, and therefore I trust him to be the keeper and protector of my Portcullis. It does, nevertheless, remain _my_ Portcullis, however."

"So why are you here now? Have you come to gloat that we lost your last riddle and our friends?" Stiles asked, accusation laced between every word.

"How dare you speak to Lady Portentia with such insolence?" Awarnach half-shouted, stepping forward before the Lady's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"It's ok, Awarnach," she said, placatingly. "No, young man, I am not here to gloat. I am here to apologize." The room remained silent, the eight friends unsure how to respond and shifting glances between one another and the new arrivals. The ethereal lady sighed before continuing. "Perhaps we should sit," she said, waving her arm in their direction as chairs rose up out of the ground for all ten beings present to sit. The Pack took their seats with trepidation, keeping as close as possible to one another and all eyes on their apparent hosts.

"This room is a manifestation of my power," Lady Portentia began, gazing almost lovingly at her surroundings. "It was created millennia ago, with the help of the man I fell in love with – Lord Hades." There were several gasps at that, but she ignored them. "For thousands of years, Hades and I ruled over and protected this Underworld, all seven realms, one for each Nemeton on the earth above and below. We were the guiding lights for the dead, and most who came here found peace and a way forward to what lies beyond. With the Portcullis, we could travel the realms of the dead with ease, bringing peace or judgment as needed." She trailed off, a faraway look in her eye as she stared at a nearby wall, clearly seeing far more than the rest could.

"So, um, what happened," Theo asked, nervously bringing her back to her story.

"The same that always happens when a world is at peace," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, "jealousy and war. The Underworld is far too grand a place for only two people to keep watch over, no matter how powerful. Hades recruited and trained various powerful people and creatures to help maintain order and balance, and gave dominion of one of the seven realms to each. But for one, the creature known as Cerberus, this was not enough. He began recruiting an army, creating demons out of the once peaceful inhabitants of his realm. And when he had amassed enough forces, he marched on the throne realm, assassinated Lord Hades, and became the ruler of the Underworld in his place." She paused again, just long enough to brush a tear from her eye before continuing. "I managed to escape, using this very room at Hades' insistence. But with my husband passing to the world beyond, there was little I could do to stop Cerberus. He and his army quickly gained control of the seven realms, killing those who opposed him and installing new governors, the Pixies, over each. What was once a radiant and peaceful place has now become a world of darkness and despair."

"I'm sorry that you have suffered so much," Derek said, slowly, when it appeared she was not going to say any more, "but, if I may ask, why are you telling us this?"

"Because you need to understand in order for both the path that led you here and the way forward to make sense," she replied. "Ever since Cerberus' coup, I have kept watch from the shadows, doing what I can to place obstacles in his way and assist those who I deem worthy. I know well what you are trying to accomplish in gathering your friends together and returning their lifeforce to them. I wish to help you succeed in that endeavor."

"But?" Stiles interjected.

"I am by no means the only one who has noticed your efforts," She said with the solemnity that can only come with age and experience. "If he does not know yet, it will not be long before you attract the attention of Lord Cerberus. He will not be pleased with you taking souls from his grasp and returning them to the Light and Life. He _will_ confront you."

The Packmates shared looks of dread and horror at that pronouncement, a shudder passing through them all. "So, you're saying if we don't finish before he finds us, we're doomed?" Scott asked.

"Not at all," Lady Portentia answered, amused. "I'm saying when he finds you, your group must be strong enough to defeat him. You will all be returning to the world above. But before you do, you must promise to help me restore order and balance to this world."

"Why us?" Isaac asked, incredulous.

"Because I have seen the strength you possess. Not individually," she shook her head at their reactions, "werewolves and the like are scattered throughout the seven realms; I could call a legion of them together if I so desired. No, what makes you different is your strength of Pack, your bonds of love and friendship and determination to set the world to right. That is a far rarer thing to possess, a far greater thing, and it is what gives me hope that you can succeed where I and Hades once failed."

"If we help you, what happens then? Who takes over Cerberus' place, and what happens to us?" Scott asked.

"The way forward is always dangerous to predict," she replied. "I can make no absolute guarantees. You have my word that, when the time comes, I and others will not simply sit idly by. We will help ensure this world returns to what it was always meant to be – a place for the dead to find peace and come to terms with the past before moving on to the world beyond. In return, I will continue doing what I can to support your efforts at being reunited with your friends and returning to the world of the living."

Scott turned to look at his friends, gauging their reactions. They were mixed, some far more optimistic than others, but all seemed to be in general agreement that they could use the help and, if Cerberus was indeed likely to find them anyway, having a strong ally on their side was worth it. "Ok," he said, speaking for them all, "we accept. We will do what we can to help you as long as you continue to help us."

"Splendid!" Lady Portentia replied, clapping her hands together and standing up. "Then this is where we shall part ways for the time being. Awarnach?" The dwarf responded to her summons, wordlessly going over to the final door in the room and knocking on it four times, before then spinning in place and disappearing into thin air. The pack turned to their remaining host in confusion. "You are welcome to remain here as long as you desire. No harm can come to you in this room, so you may take the time to rest and mourn for those you've lost. When you are ready, the door will lead you to another member of your group. There will be no riddle, despite Lord Hades' love for them. Simply step through the portal and the way forward will become clear. I wish you all the best on your journey."

"Will we see you again?" Derek asked.

"I cannot say," was the grim reply. "For now, I must help another who is working to assist you, though she wishes to remain anonymous at the present time. Trust that we are doing all we can to keep the way forward as clear as possible." Before they could ask anything else, she too had turned on the spot and disappeared into thin air.

"So…what do we do now?" Ethan asked, speaking up from his position between his brother and boyfriend. All eyes darted to him before turning to Scott.

"We do what she said," Scott answered after a moment of deliberation. "Let's get some rest and heal, and then we can move on."

"If we're going to…move on," Stiles stammered, fighting to keep his voice even, "then we should…say good-bye." The others agreed, and they solemnly began arranging the chairs into a loose circle so they could sit facing one another. No one spoke for several moments as they all gathered their thoughts together.

"I guess I'll go first," Derek said from his spot between Stiles and Isaac, both of whom he had wrapped his arms around loosely. "Noshiko, you were a brave and powerful woman. Though we didn't always see eye-to-eye in life, I respect that you were always thinking of others and trying to do what was best for them. And Nolan, I never got the chance to know you well until we met here in the Underworld, but you were one of the bravest, smartest humans I've ever met. It's been an honor calling you my friend."

"I'm sorry," Isaac began, taking over from Derek but struggling to get the words out. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm sorry I ran away after we faced the Nogitsune the first time. I couldn't take it all anymore, and I abandoned the people who needed me. You've both shown me how big a mistake that was. I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you. I promise I will not make that mistake again, I will always fight for my friends, like you both did."

"This Pack has taught me to value life in a way I never had before," Theo said, once it seemed Isaac was finished. "Nolan, you especially were a part of that. You helped me step away from my past and accept the changes I needed to make to have a future. It should be you sitting here instead of me, and I'm sorry I can't switch places with you. You and Noshiko have both shown me what it means to fight for something you love, to make a sacrifice to protect others, and I promise that is not something I will ever forget."

"The Nogitsune has haunted me for years now," Aiden began, wincing as Stiles flinched at those words. "I blame it, and it alone, for all the pain and suffering that has happened since it came into our lives. Noshiko, I can't thank you enough for defeating it. I thought we were all goners, and then you sacrificed yourself to save us. Because of you, I have my brother by my side, hopefully for years to come. I'm just sorry you and Nolan won't be by our side too."

"I feel like this is so unfair," Ethan said, drawing the two men sat either side of him closer to himself as he did. "We've all lost so much, and even when we are trying to put things back together we still lose. You both should be here, and we should be celebrating that we defeated that creature for good this time. I hope you will be willing to wait a long time on the other side, wherever you are, for us to join you. Be planning our victory party, because it needs to be awesome after all of this."

"I don't…I don't know what to say," Jackson muttered, taking his turn. "I never got a chance to really get to know either of you, and I still can't understand how I got so lucky to be a part of this Pack and have my boyfriend back next to me when so many others are gone or missing. I've caused so much pain and damage. If we had to lose someone, it should have been me. I will…I will try my best to learn your stories, to learn who you were from other people, so I can honor your memory in the future you've helped give me."

"Noshiko, I made you a promise, and I will keep it," Scott stated solemnly. "I will find Kira, and make sure we bring her back to life. I will do whatever it takes to help her finish her training and live the long and happy life you wanted for her. Nolan, I will never stop fighting for the ones like you who need a friend. My Pack will always be a safe place for those who feel the world is against them and those who need someone to give them a second chance. I swear, your sacrifices will not be in vain."

Finally, it came to Stiles, and for a long while it seemed as though he wasn't going to say anything. When he did finally speak, it was barely more than a whisper, and had the rest of the group not had supernatural hearing, they likely would not have heard a word. "I failed you, both of you. You trusted me for protection and guidance, and in my arrogance I thought I could give it. I was wrong, and because of that you are both gone. I don't know of any way I can ever make it up to you, but you have my word that I will not act so brazen in the future. I set this plan into motion, and I will see it to completion, whatever it takes. And I will also make sure that you are never forgotten. _Auto orkidzomai me te duname pou mou dotheke se hades."_

The group remained silent for a while longer, before Scott broke their circle. "Get some rest everyone. We leave as soon as everyone is healed up." They scattered to lie down and sleep or simply think and be close to one another. Stiles alone remained where he sat, unmoving, unflinching, staring at the spot on the ground where Nolan had lain, though no trace of the boy remained.

-o-

She entered the room with an air of indifference, hardly seeming to care where she was or what she was doing. For those who knew her, however, it was clear this could not be further from the truth. She had quickly risen through the ranks to become first lieutenant, second-in-command to the now infamous Argent Pack of Limbo. Yet this gave her little joy or comfort, as it was so vastly different from the life she had once led. For the time being, though, those misgivings would not matter. Rumors had begun to spread, rumors of a massive plot by the Argent Alpha being slowly set in motion, and they were enough to call her back from her post near the Spirit Gates and to the Den, a room she had not set foot in for months.

"Alpha, sir, your first lieutenant has arrived," Severo said, having entered ahead of her and bowed respectfully before the dais upon which Gerard and Victoria Argent were seated.

"Thank you, Severo," Gerard replied, somewhat disdainfully, before sweeping his eyes across the few other occupants of the room. "You are all dismissed." The beta wolves hastened to obey, leaving Gerard and his lieutenants alone.

"Don Gerard, it has been too long," she said, feigning happiness at the sight of her alpha. Inwardly, she cringed, but she had far too many years of practice to allow that to show anywhere on the outside. "Severo tells me you have something important in the works; something I should perhaps know about and be involved in."

"I do indeed, Araya," Gerard responded, getting to his feet in order to grasp her hand in greeting. "I'm sure you remember Scott McCall, and all the misfits he has gathered to his side."

"Of course, how could I forget the lobito? Were it not for him and your daughter, most of my clan would not be here, in this god-forsaken place," her tone remained pleasant, but the contempt beneath was barely concealed.

"A fact for which I believe you would be interested in seeking…suitable retribution, yes?" Gerard asked, ignoring the mention of his daughter in the interest of keeping things going.

"What do you have in mind, Gerard? Scott is in the Suicide Pit, he is untouchable," Araya Calaveras asked, confused.

"Scott has been freed from the pit, undoubtedly by Derek and Stiles," he replied, continuing to talk over her gasp and attempts at interjection. "It would seem the trio are seeking to put their Pack back together, though for what purpose remains a mystery to us."

"If that is the case, what are you planning on doing with this information?"

"A showdown, pack against pack, Argents against McCalls. We finish this, once and for all, and send every single one of them to the realm beyond, never to be seen or heard from again," Gerard said, a mad gleam in his eye.

"That is a tempting offer, mi Alpha. But how can you be sure Scott will accept your challenge?" Araya asked, unconvinced.

"He will have no choice," Gerard answered with a laugh, "Not if he wishes to be reunited with his poor, helpless beta." He broke off into an outright cackle.

"You have Scott's beta? Here?" Araya became incredulous as her eyes darted around the room, as though he might suddenly appear.

"He has been captured, yes. But we are struggling to subdue him. It would seem he overheard someone say that Scott is looking for his friends, and that has encouraged the little miscreant to…misbehave," Gerard replied, becoming more subdued and thoughtful.

"Ahh, and so you have summoned me here to keep the little wolf in line, is that it?"

"Yes indeed, your powers of persuasion are unrivaled. I want you to keep Liam occupied, by any means necessary, until his alpha comes calling for him. In the meantime, Victoria will begin setting a trap for when Scott does show up. I trust I can count on you to do this task without mistake?" Gerard said, all trace of humor gone from his voice.

"Of course, sir. It will be my pleasure," Araya said, bowing to hide her smirk.


	22. Discoveries, Dear and Dreadful

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hello again everyone! This story is now about the same length as the third Harry Potter novel, so if you've made it this far all I can say is thanks for sticking with me. Also, thank you so much to Camille and kkalphwolf for your encouragement. I hope you continue to enjoy the story, and I promise Scott and the rest will have plenty more moments to shine as it unfolds. Here we go…

Chapter 22: Discoveries, Dear and Dreadful

The Pack did as they were told, scattering to rest and heal and taking comfort in one another's presence. Isaac fell asleep almost instantly, having fought well past exhaustion and become severely wounded. He lay somewhat sprawled out next to Derek, hand still gripping his former alpha's tightly like a lifeline. Derek watched him in fond exasperation before also settling down, too wary to outright sleep but calm enough to meditate and allow his body time to heal and recover. A few yards away, Theo soon succumbed to sleep as well, back resting against one of the conjured chairs and knees drawn up against his chest. In the center of the room, Stiles remained fixated on the spot where Nolan had lain before vanishing, unresponsive to the others around him. Scott fell asleep next to him, one hand still clenching his best friend's knee in silent support. On the other side, completing the loose circle they had created, were Ethan, Aiden, and Jackson. Ethan had curled up around Jackson, cradling his wounded boyfriend snugly against himself. Aiden watched them, torn between wanting to be with his brother and not wanting to intrude on their moment. He eventually settled on the latter, moving a short distance away to give them some privacy and settled next to Theo.

"You know, this isn't entirely necessary," Jackson whispered quietly in his mate's ear, not wanting to disturb the others.

"Shh, yes it is," Ethan whispered back, tightening his grip around the other for a moment. Jackson hummed slightly in response, comforted and content as they both watched the cuts and gashes on his arms slowly seal themselves up as if by magic.

"Ethan, can I ask you something?" Jackson turned, breaking the relaxing silence that had grown between them after a few moments with a serious expression on his face.

"Of course," Ethan replied, sensing the change in demeanor and meeting the distraught eyes in front of him without hesitation.

"Back there…when we found you and you were…the stuff that was happening to you…I can't pretend to know what that's like, but you…you know you can talk to me about it if…if you want to, right?" They sat up so they were facing each other, hands clasped together. Jackson gazed intently at his mate, his face betraying so many underlying emotions at once. Ethan looked away, lost in thought for a moment before returning to meet the look with a fond, wistful smile.

"Yeah, I know that," he said, taking a deep breath and sighing before leaning in closer, shifting so they sat next to each other. He remained silent for another long moment, wrapping an arm around Jackson's waist and leaning them both back against a couple of the conjured chairs. "I thought those days were long behind me," Ethan continued, once he was comfortable, "it was so long ago now, and so much has happened since then. There isn't really anything more to tell you about what happened. What you saw when you found me – that was the worst of it. The pain, the abuse, the torture. I hated them, all of them, for doing that to us. Still do, I guess. When Deucalion came and offered Aiden and me a chance to escape, we took it and never looked back."

"Are you…this is really selfish of me to ask, but after all of that, are you sure you're ok being _with_ me?" Jackson asked, face reddening slightly as he said it and turned to stare off in another direction.

"Of course I am," Ethan said without hesitation, grabbing Jackson by the jaw and turning him so their eyes met once again. "I chose you, remember? I feel…safe, with you. I know you would never do anything like that, to hurt me, or my brother. I trust you. I love you. Now shut up and go to sleep!" He ended with a chuckle, leaning in to give his mate a quick kiss before lying back on the ground and beckoning for Jackson to lie down next to him. Jackson blushed again, but moved to join him without a sound, wrapping his arms around the wolf and snuggling up close before promptly doing as told and falling asleep with a soft smile on his face.

Aiden watched them with amusement, tuning out their conversation to focus instead on the other remaining Pack members. His eyes drifted casually over Derek and Isaac before falling on the lone Theo. _Chimera,_ Aiden thought to himself, frowning slightly while remembering what the young man had told him earlier in this same chamber. _At some point I need to get the whole story there. Chimeras are not meant to exist, and if what Stiles said about there being more of them is correct, than I really need to investigate and make sure we're not walking into some kind of trap here._ Thinking of Stiles drew Aiden's attention to the human-demon in question. His frown grew deeper and forehead creased as he watched his former enemy staring at the ground distraught. Aiden remained indecisive for a moment before releasing a sigh and standing to quietly move and sit down in front of him, blocking his view of that spot on the ground.

"Hey," he said quietly, doing his best to not disturb the sleeping wolves surrounding them. Stiles didn't react until Aiden tapped him on the shoulder, drawing him out of whatever thoughts had possessed him and gaining his attention. "Not that its really any of my business, but you need to stop staring at the floor."

"You're right, Aiden, it isn't any of your business," Stiles replied, icily. He crossed his arms over his chest, his face an unreadable mask of emotions. Aiden sighed again, turning his face away to stare at his sleeping brother for a moment before returning his attention back to Stiles.

"You know, I never actually blamed you," he said, grimacing slightly.

"Never blamed me for what," Stiles asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"For me dying," Aiden replied matter-of-factly, refusing to acknowledge the wince his statement received. "Right at first, when we were figuring things out and Scott told Ethan and me that you were possessed by the Nogitsune, I wasn't really sure what to think. I didn't know if I should hate you, or fear you, or pity you. I though about how _I_ might have to be the one to kill _you,_ because I knew Scott would never do it. But, to be honest, most of the time I was just thinking about how much I wanted to be accepted into the Pack, your Pack, Scott's Pack, so I knew that, ultimately, I could never do that to you. And I didn't really want to anyway, not anymore. I grew tired of hurting people, that's not what I wanted then, or what I want now." Aiden trailed off for a moment, eyes glazing over, unfocused.

"Um, not that I don't appreciate this insight into your psyche, but is there a point to it?" Stiles asked, drawing Aiden's focus back to him.

"Yeah," Aiden said, gathering his thoughts together. "I'm not Scott, but I think I understand now what he was getting at. The Nogitsune used you, hurt you, made you do things – like both of my previous packs did to me. But you are not responsible for the things it did through you. When I was…dying…I was angry, and in pain, and a whole bunch of other stuff. But when it came to you I only felt one emotion. Regret."

"Regret?" Stiles queried.

"Mmhmm," Aiden hummed in agreement, "for a couple of things. I regretted not being able to do more to help save you and put an end to that nightmare. I regretted not actually getting to know you more in the first place, cause overall you seem like a really smart, cool dude, and you are absolutely loyal to your friends. But mostly I regretted the fact that my death was going to be on your conscience, because I don't believe you deserve that. I've had a lot of time to think about what happened since that night sent me here. But I have never once blamed _you_ for any of it. And I don't…I don't think Nolan would want you to blame yourself for what happened to him either. I didn't really get a chance to get to know him or anything, obviously, but if he was anything like the rest of the people you and McCall pull together, then I know he wouldn't want you to blame yourself and wallow like this when you still got work to do." Aiden punched him on the shoulder lightly, eliciting a small smile and a punch in return.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Stiles said, joviality gone in an instant to be replaced by subdued melancholy. "I meant what I said earlier – I will see this plan I had through to completion, and I'll make sure Nolan and Noshiko are not forgotten. But I don't know if it'll be that easy to just forgive myself for all the mistakes I've made in the process."

"Perhaps you can start by accepting forgiveness from someone else instead," Aiden held out his hand tentatively, "and maybe offering forgiveness to your former enemy as well?" His body trembled slightly at the words, but he remained resolute.

"Of course I forgive you, Aiden," Stiles said softly, clasping the hand held out to him firmly and shaking it. "And…thank you, for being willing to forgive me also. And for telling me what you did. You're a pretty ok guy yourself, you know that?"

Aiden chuckled softly at that, releasing his hand. "I think I still have a ways to go. But at least with you guys, I know I'll get there, eventually."

Stiles turned to look at the alpha wolf resting next to him. "Yeah, stick with this guy and he'll lead you right," he said, patting Scott gently on the side as he said it. He released a sigh before turning to look at Aiden once more. "Guess we should probably follow his example now and get some sleep too. We're probably going to need it for whatever is coming next."

Aiden nodded his head in response and moved to stand up as Stiles stretched out beside his best friend and almost instantly fell asleep. He began to step away when a flash of red caught his attention, causing him to turn and notice Scott staring up at him with wide eyes and a soft smile. _Thank you,_ the alpha mouthed, eyes darting to the sleeping man next to him a moment before returning to the wolf above him. Aiden smiled softly in return, nodded once, and then moved back over to where Ethan and Jackson slept to settle in himself, one hand clenched around that of his brother and eyes focused for a moment on his new alpha and new friend before allowing slumber to overtake him as well.

Derek remained silent as he observed the Pack around him, half in a meditative trance and half-aware of the conversations going on. He smiled to himself as he took in the sleeping forms of his seven packmates before stretching the arm not anchored by Isaac above his head, yawning slightly, and lying down as well. _My pack,_ he thought with a contented rumble in the back of his throat as he soon joined them in sleep.

-o-

"How do you know that someone down there is going to die? How do people who are already dead even die again in the first place? Who is it that's in danger?" Mason asked, staring wide-eyed at Lydia and clutching tightly to his boyfriend's hand.

"It's hard to explain," Lydia replied shakily, holding her head slightly in concentration. "Stiles and I formed a connection as part of the rituals to send Derek to the otherworld. It's like the three of us together form a bridge, so ever since then my banshee powers can sense a bit of what is happening around them as well as what's going on here in our world. As for what happens when a dead person dies a second time, or who's in danger, I have no idea." Suddenly, Lydia went absolutely rigid, her eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream.

"Lydia, sweetheart, what's going on?" Melissa asked, cautiously placing a hand on the young woman's shoulder and shaking her gently. She didn't react at first, taking several moments before coming back to herself and curling her arms around her stomach and collapsing to the ground.

"Someone is gone," she said, voice barely more than a whisper.

"What? What do you mean? Who's gone?" the others asked in varying amounts of shock and horror.

"I don't know," she whimpered, tears beginning to fall as she shook her head. "I just know that someone who was with them died. I can't tell who."

Corey and Mason collapsed on the ground in front of her, sharing looks of trepidation and pain. Melissa alone remained on her feet, fighting to hold back tears and remain strong. "We just have to believe in them, that's all," she said quietly, more to herself than the others. "We have to keep hoping for the best, and trust they'll come home safely." She turned and walked back to camp without another word, busying herself with gathering the supplies Corey and Mason had brought back and organizing them alongside the rest of what had been accumulated in the clearing. After a while, Corey and Mason joined her, being put to work on finishing the makeshift tent that she and Lydia had begun while Lydia remained seated on the ground where she had collapsed.

Close to an hour passed before Lydia suddenly stood up and began walking, almost as if in a trance, towards the markers she had set up days earlier. "Lydia, what's going on?" Corey asked, being the first to notice her movements and drawing the others' attention.

"Somebody is coming," she said absently, as she continued to draw closer to the marker in question. She reached a hand out into the air, feeling the familiar static electricity that had accompanied Corey and Mason's arrival. The boys quickly came to her side, staring worriedly at her as she suddenly grabbed them each by an arm to pull them back. "Look out!" she cried as two bolts of lightning struck the ground inches from where they had stood, knocking all three of them off their feet.

"Lydia, Corey, Mason, are you ok?" Melissa called out, running over to join them.

"Yeah," Lydia replied.

"I'm ok," Corey said.

"I'm fine," Mason said.

"We're just fine too, thanks for asking," Brett replied.

"What?" Melissa asked, stepping back.

"Brett?" Corey asked.

"You're alive!" Mason shouted, incredulous.

"Yeah, I guess so," Brett responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I'm here too," Lori said with a pout.

"Lori!" Lydia said, darting forward to give the girl a hug. The others quickly followed suit, turning it into a giant pile of flailing limbs and bodies. Tears and laughter flowed freely as the four occupants of the clearing welcomed the newcomers, and it was several minutes before they settled down enough to speak properly.

"Alright, you have to tell us what's been going on down there. We haven't heard anything in two days, and I sensed that someone was just…lost. What happened?" Lydia began the interrogation as they all gathered around the campfire. Brett and Lori shared a look of resignation before facing the others.

"It's been bad, we've been in some tough battles," Brett began.

"We were fighting the Nogitsune," Lori continued, wincing at Melissa's and Lydia's gasp, "and we were losing. Brett and I got hurt too much to continue, Nolan too. Noshiko ended up sacrificing herself to defeat the Nogitsune, but by that point it was too late. Stiles started making the marks on the ground to send us back, but Nolan faded away before he could finish." Lori trailed off, her face a mask of grief and pain.

"What about Scott, and Stiles, and the others? Are they ok?" Melissa asked, solemnly.

"Everyone was pretty beat up during the battle," Brett answered, drawing his sister close to his side as he spoke, "but none of the others were touched by the Oni's blade that I know of. They should all be able to heal like usual."

"All? Who else has been found?" Mason asked, scrutinizing the wolf.

"Um," Brett said, thinking for a second. "There's Scott, Stiles, Derek, Theo, and some guys named Isaac, Jackson, Ethan, and Aiden, I think."

"Wow, you all have been busy," Mason said, impressed.

"But what about Noshiko and Nolan? Does that mean they have to be found again, or…" Melissa started, but was unable to finish her question.

"I don't…I don't think they can be," Lori replied, eyes downcast. "The others mentioned something about there being a world beyond, like the one we were just in is only the first stage of the afterlife. I think, when you die there, you go to whatever the next stage is."

"Oh," Melissa said, shaking her head slightly.

"So…that means that they can't come back," Mason said, partly questioning and partly resigned.

"I don't know," Lori shrugged her shoulders in response. The group fell silent, reflective and mournful for a few moments until Lydia stood up, trance-like once more as she began to walk slowly towards the markers again.

"Lydia? What is it this time?" Melissa asked, rising to her feet to join the banshee.

"Someone is coming," Lydia said, voice monotone as though she wasn't fully in control of it.

"Again? Who this time?" Mason asked, leading the rest of the group to rise to their feet and follow her. Lydia didn't answer, instead continuing to walk slowly over to stand in front of the new marker set up for Nolan and reaching a hand into the air in front of her.

"Nolan?" Corey asked, looking at the backpack surrounded by runes with apprehension. "Are you sure?"

"Nolan? Really?" Brett asked, eyes darting back and forth between the various group members. Before anyone could reply, a shimmering blue ball of light floated up from the ground through the backpack. It hovered in the air for a moment, inches in front of Lydia's outstretched hand, before beginning to grow and bend. The gathered group watched cautiously, pulling Lydia back a step as the blue light began to take on the shape of a person hovering in mid-air. Slowly the light changed colors, to reveal familiar pale skin, brown hair, and torn clothing. The figure remained in the air for a moment as the light continued to fade.

Suddenly, Nolan opened his eyes and drew in a deep breath, breaking whatever spell was on him and sending him plummeting to the ground. "Ow," he said, wincing and rubbing the back of his head as he shifted into a sitting position.

"Nolan?" Brett asked in wonder, breaking the silence that had descended on the group who all stared intently at the boy on the ground.

"Yes?" Nolan replied, tentative as he took in all of the people watching him.

"You're alive!" Brett shouted, pouncing on the boy and knocking him back flat onto the ground. A moment later, Nolan let out an "oof" as several more bodies piled on top of and around him, each drawing him in tightly and celebrating his return.

"Guys…can't…breathe!" Nolan managed to gasp as a dozen arms all squeezed him at once. They all quickly pulled back, just enough to allow him some oxygen and to offer apologies before the interrogation.

"What happened to you? How are you here? Did Stiles find you? They said you died again? Are you ok? Are you a ghost?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys, one question at a time," Nolan interjected, holding his hands out as though he could physically stop them.

"Sorry," Lori said on behalf of them all. "It's just, we thought you were gone for good. What happened?"

Nolan took a moment to compose himself, eyes glancing over each of them in turn. "I thought I was gone for good too. I told Stiles…wait, if I'm here, do the others know that I made it?" He turned to take in the clearing, frantically looking around as though hoping to see the rest of his friends.

"We have no way of knowing," Lydia said gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and trying to settle him down. "We don't have a way to contact them or talk to them unless Stiles reaches out to us."

"Oh," Nolan said, slumping his shoulders as he turned back to look at the others. "I said goodbye, because I thought I was dying again. I don't want them all to think I'm gone and be upset when I'm actually here."

"Wait, back up. If they don't know you're here, than how _are_ you here?" Brett asked, incredulously.

"I was saved," Nolan replied, his gaze going unfocused as he spoke. "I was in so much pain after the battle, and I could feel my life, or whatever you call it in the Underworld, draining away like the first time I died. I felt my body give out, and I sort of drifted away I guess. I could see a tunnel, and I felt like I should go down it, like that was the only thing I could do. But before I made it, a hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me in a different direction. I met a woman. Or at least, I think it was a woman. The voice sounded feminine, but I couldn't see her, everything around me was dark. She called my name, and said that my friends still needed me. Then she shoved me in another direction, away from that tunnel I had seen and into a blue ball of light. The next thing I knew, I was here."

"Wow," Lori breathed, when it seemed he was finished.

"Well, whatever happened, we're just glad you made it back safely," Melissa said, enveloping the young man in another fierce hug.

"Thank you," Nolan whispered softly.

"Well, now that that's settled, can we eat? I'm starving," Brett called out, breaking them all from their stupor and gaining a round of laughter.

"Only if you three fill us in on all the details of what's been going on down there," Melissa chided. "And I mean _all_ the details." She placed her hands on her hips menacingly, causing Brett to gulp before shaking her head in exasperation. "Come on, you can talk while I cook." She led the group, now seven in number, over to their campfire and began dragging some of the supplies that Corey and Mason had brought out to make a proper meal. The sounds of laughter and joy filled the clearing as the sun reached its peak in the sky to shine down directly upon them. Brett, Lori, and Nolan reveled in it, after having been gone so long, satisfied that they were alive and back with friends where they could await the rest of the Pack's arrival.

-o-

The Pack belowground awoke in much more somber spirits to the perpetual drab gray of Limbo, but at least they were reasonably well rested and completely healed of their battle wounds. Scott stood, watching his companions as they shook off the last vestiges of sleep and slowly gathered around him. "I know its been tough. Losing Noshiko and Nolan hit us hard, and I can't promise that things are going to be better when we leave here. Stiles can send any of you back if you want, you've all already done more than enough, more than I have a right to ask you to do."

"Scott, we're with you until the end," Isaac interrupted, gaining several nods and affirmative grunts from the rest.

"Alright. I won't say I'm not worried, because I am. I don't want to lose any of you. But I'm also grateful for your help. We've still got twelve more Packmates to find, at least, and I have a feeling its going to take all of us to do it," he said solemnly, eyes meeting each of his friends in turn. "I guess, if we're ready, its time to leave the Portcullis and see where we end up next." He paused for a moment longer, until Derek placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. Scott accepted the encouragement before leading the group over to the last remaining door. No face emerged this time; instead, the door itself seemed to glow slightly with anticipation. Scott reached out and grabbed the knob, twisting it to open the door. The 8 pack members felt the familiar sensation of cascading forward into the brilliant flash of white light that met their eyes until they finally crashed to the ground in a heap.

The sound of running water was the first thing to catch their attention as they clambered to their feet once more. "Where are we?" Jackson asked, cautiously looking around at the tunnel they had been thrust into. The walls were slick and tinged green, as was the ground beneath their feet.

"The water treatment tunnels," Stiles replied, a confused expression on his face as he examined the closest wall with intensity.

"Again? But why would the Portcullis lead us here? Who could possibly be down here?" Isaac asked with a dramatic sigh, unhappy with this turn of events.

"Hayden," Scott answered after carefully scenting the air. "But she's not alone."

"The rest of the chimeras are down here too," Theo added, his head cocked in an odd position as he stared down one end of the tunnel. "I can sense them."

"Not just them," Scott continued, closing his eyes in order to focus on his other senses. "The Dread Doctors are here too."

"Oh joy," Stiles retorted sarcastically, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "Because things weren't difficult enough already. I can't wait to see those three again."

"Is there any chance we can sneak in, get Hayden, and then get out without being seen?" Ethan asked, watching the rest with trepidation.

"I don't think so," Theo replied as a low growl rumbled through the tunnels towards them.

"Great. Well, might as well go meet the welcoming committee," Stiles said, grimacing at the sound as Scott and the rest turned as one to face the direction it had come from. "Just remember, if you get hurt too badly, you have to give me enough time to draw the runes to send you back."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Isaac replied, nudging him in the shoulder.

"Best to be prepared, that's all I'm saying," Stiles answered, nudging back and almost knocking the wolf off his feet.

"Get ready guys," Scott called out as the sound of running footsteps began echoing down the tunnel. "Here it comes."

-o-

A/N: So, I don't normally do this, but I felt like sharing and I'd appreciate any thoughts you have that might help as the story continues to unfold. I wavered back and forth for quite a while on what was ultimately going to happen to Nolan after I introduced him into the story. In my original plan, he was going to be killed off completely, unable to come back (which is Noshiko's fate; her sacrifice saved the pack but means she is unable to be rescued. But, as she said, she lived a long life and trusts them to take care of her daughter, so she will be at peace in the next world). But, as I continued to write I sort of fell in love with Nolan's character, or at least my take on him, and I couldn't bring myself to do it. So then I was going to save him the same way I did the others. But I still wanted there to be a weight to his ending, something that will push Stiles in particular forward. And this is what I finally settled on – Nolan is alive, saved by an "unknown woman," but everyone down in Limbo thinks they've lost him and have no way of knowing otherwise unless they check in up top. Now, I have the rest of this story plotted out already, so I know what I plan for each person's fate to be. But, I am curious to know what you all think as well. At any rate, thanks for reading. See you all soon!


	23. In the Dread of Night

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi all! Thank you to Matt, Camille, and kkalphwolf for your comments! It sounds like I made the right choice with Nolan. :D I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up, I've been out of town for awhile and haven't been able to work on it. For that reason, it's also a little shorter than I would have liked, but I figured something was better than nothing at this point. As always, reviews are appreciated; but, without further ado, here's the next chapter…

Chapter 23: In the Dread of Night

"Scott McCall!" a voice called out from the tunnel ahead of them as the pounding footsteps echoed closer. "You will pay for what you did to me!"

"Belasko again? How did he end up here?" Stiles asked in response, perplexed by the voice.

"Wait? That's the guy we ran into right after I got here, isn't it?" Derek added, glancing briefly at the young man next to him before focusing his attention at the junction in the tunnels ahead of them.

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't kill him or anything, but I wouldn't expect him to be up and ready to fight again so soon after that," Stiles answered, lost in thought.

"We can worry about that later," Scott interjected, regaining his attention. "He's not alone."

"Well, neither are you," Isaac said, taking a step forward to stand alongside his alpha. At that moment Belasko rounded the corner ahead of them, along with three chimeras. They stopped at the end of the tunnel, everyone staring at one another in silence for several moments.

"What are you doing?" Stiles finally said, breaking the reverie that had fallen on them all. "I thought I told you a couple of days ago that this whole 'revenge on Scott's Pack' thing is so totally misguided."

"And _I_ told _you,_ " Belasko retorted through gritted teeth, "that I _will_ have my revenge on your precious alpha."

"Revenge for what?" Scott asked, bewildered, "you attacked me, we defeated you, and I let you go. What's there to get revenge for?"

"I will not fail the Doctors again," was Belasko's only response as he began to stalk his way forward. Jackson, Isaac, and Theo immediately stepped forward, taking up defensive stances. Derek and the twins completed a semi-circle of sorts around Scott and Stiles, the latter of whom alone remained unconcerned by this turn of events.

"Don't forget what the Doctors sent us here to do, Bel," a female chimera with red hair said, also stepping forward to place a hand on his shoulder, halting his advance. "Your desire to get even, or that of the others, pales in comparison to the great work _They_ are trying to accomplish. We mustn't do anything that could jeopardize that."

"Any ideas what she's talking about?" Scott whispered, glancing at a few of the others. They all replied with shakes of the head.

"Of course you don't know what I am talking about," she continued in a bored voice, overhearing their whispers across the distance, "your feeble minds could not possibly comprehend the work with which the Dread Doctors are currently occupied. And yet you dare defy them by forcing your way into this - their most sacred and hallowed of operating theaters. It is incumbent upon me to…"

"Oh, shut up and fight us already if that's what you're here to do," Stiles shouted exasperatedly, interrupting her. "Or else get out of our way. We've got places to be, people to see, all that good stuff."

"If it is a fight you seek," she said, narrowing her eyes and grinning maliciously at Stiles, "I shall happily oblige."

There was the briefest of silent moments as the two stared unwaveringly at one another before the tunnel exploded with light and sound. Josh, one of the other chimeras skulking behind Belasko and the female, sent a surge of electricity through the tunnel, overloading all of the lights and causing them to burst into a cascade of sparks and glass before plunging the tunnel into near complete darkness. The wolves all quickly shifted in order to use their supernatural sight to aid in the dark.

"Josh, you don't have to do this," Scott called out to the young, glowing chimera who was now the only source of light in the tunnels. "We can help you!"

"No, Scott, you really can't," Josh replied, as he and Belasko stalked forward, "not when Theo is on your side."

"Josh, I'm so, so sorry for what I did to you, I promise…" Theo began before being cut off.

"I don't care," Josh answered as he dove, claws first, at his former leader and murderer. Theo jumped back, Josh's claws coming within centimeters of snagging him while Belasko mirrored the action at Isaac, who had darted in front of Scott.

The confined tunnel quickly devolved into chaos. Derek rushed to join Theo in countering Josh's wild swings as the chimera drew more electricity from the exploded lightbulbs above their heads. Isaac managed to grab Belasko's wrist to stop the glowing blue talons from sinking into his chest, Scott countering with his own claws and forcing Belasko to take a step back. Ethan and Jackson skirted around those two groups to charge at the one chimera who had thus far not moved – Noah. In the dim light of Josh's electric glow they could see his eyes widen at the sight of two werewolves charging directly for him before, almost as though possessed, his demeanor changed and berserker bones began to protrude above his wrists. He roared as he met the werewolves in battle, swiping fiercely at them with the bones and claws on his hands.

"I guess that leaves you and me to take on loud-mouth there," Stiles said, glancing at Aiden with a humorous glint.

"You know, I liked you better when you were taking everything too seriously," Aiden quipped back, extending his claws and fangs and preparing a defensive stance.

"Don't worry, you'll learn to love the sarcasm, in time," Stiles replied, clapping a hand on the wolf's back, sending him forward a few steps. Aiden growled under his breath at the shove before turning his full attention on the female chimera, who now had long, needle-like talons protruding from each finger as her skin turned a mottled gray color.

"What below the earth are you?" Stiles asked, also turning his attention to their opponent and taking in the ghastly sight.

"You like?" she asked, clicking her tongue several times as she did so. "I'm part werewolf, part *aswang." Her reptilian tongue flicked across werewolf fangs for the briefest of moments before she dove towards the wall, scaling it in an instant and getting lost in the shadows.

"Where'd she go?" Aiden cried out, scanning the area wearily, unable to hear her movements over the sounds of the battles around them. Isaac flew through the air in front of him, having once again narrowly missed being impaled on Belasko's talons. Scott roared furiously at the chimera, charging full speed into him and knocking them both to the ground. Scott's roar was immediately followed by Theo's scream, as Josh momentarily got the upper hand and rammed thousands of bolts of electricity through his body. Derek managed to sever the connection between the two with a flying kick, knocking Josh to the ground and cutting him off from his supply of electricity, but Theo sank to the ground as well, convulsing from the effects of the electricity.

"I'm…fine…" he panted, his breathing harsh and ragged as he struggled to make eye contact with the older werewolf. "Keep…fighting." Derek did as he was told, pouncing on the recovering chimera and taking advantage of his current state. The two were quickly engaged in an all-out brawl, trading punches and darting in-and-out amongst the rest of the battles raging around them.

At the end of the hall, Ethan, Jackson, and Noah were engaged in the most frenzied of these battles. Both wolves were fast, darting and weaving around their foe with unbridled agility. But Noah easily countered their movements with a strength that far surpassed his slender frame. Their fight, shrouded in darkness, was exceedingly difficult to follow, both wolves relying heavily on their senses of smell and hearing, as well as their trust for one another. They remained evenly matched, until Ethan heard his brother scream out in pain.

"Aiden!" Ethan shouted, momentarily distracted and turning to look down the tunnel. In that split second, Noah's bone claws caught him, piercing through his chest and sending him flying into the wall, where he crumpled to a heap.

"No!" Jackson cried out, switching from wolf to kanima claws and tail, swiping wildly at the berserker hybrid with venom dripping everywhere. Noah stepped back, out of the path of the venom, before redoubling his attack on his enemy while Ethan remained slumped over, unmoving.

Aiden was oblivious to all of this. He had scoured the walls around him fruitlessly looking for the female chimera when she suddenly, and silently, dropped on top of him from a position hidden on the ceiling. She sunk her talons into his shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain and collapse to his knees while her long, prehensile tongue clicked against her fangs, darting out to flick along his cheek. She moved to swipe the talons of her free hand across his throat, but she was interrupted by Stiles.

"Don't worry, I got you, buddy," he said gruffly as he shifted into demon form and grabbed the chimera by the neck, yanking her off of the wolf and out of harms way.

"So, what Bel said is true," she grunted, the ever-present clicking noise in her speech making her difficult to understand. "You really can shapeshift into a demon. The Doctors will be most-pleased to hear this."

"And why is that?" Stiles asked, drawing her in closely to stare directly in her face.

"That is no concern of yours…yet," she said icily, the barest hint of a grin glinting across her ashen features in the flicker of Josh's electric luminescence. She scraped her talons along Demon-Stiles' arm, drawing blood and causing him to release her from his vice-like grip. Glancing around the tunnel, she saw that the Pack, while injured, were quickly gaining the upper hand on her chimera allies. Theo had recovered from his electric shock and come at Josh with a vengeance, he and Derek rapidly overpowering the young boy and driving him into a corner. Belasko was still on the ground, being pummeled by Isaac and Scott. Noah alone seemed to be holding his own, his growls echoing down the tunnel as he struck again and again at Kanima-Jackson while Ethan remained unconscious along the wall nearby. "It's time to regroup," she called out, jabbing her talons into Isaac's back and pulling him off of Belasko long enough for the chimera to free himself and regain his footing. Josh turned and ran the moment the words were out of her mouth, grabbing Noah along the way and dragging the berserker behind him. "No arguments," she said warningly as she pulled Belasko behind her, darting after Josh.

"Are we going to go after them?" Theo asked, uncertainly.

"No, not yet. Is everyone ok?" Scott replied, glancing around and squinting in the darkness for his friends.

"Yeah, but those talons are ridiculous," Stiles answered, shifting back to human form and rubbing his uninjured hand along the deep cuts on his arm. Derek, Isaac, and Aiden quickly confirmed they were alright as well. They turned as one down the hall to hear Jackson calling out frantically.

"Ethan? Ethan? Come on, you gotta wake up, you gotta be ok. Don't leave me, please, come on, Ethan…" Jackson stuttered out as he cradled his unconscious mate carefully in his arms.

"Ethan!" Aiden yelled, storming down the hall and crumpling next to the two of them in an instant. "no, no, no, no, no, not again, not like this!" The rest quickly joined them, gathering in a semi-circle around their fallen friend.

-o-

"So, how does it feel, being alive again? For that matter, what did it feel like to be dead?" Melissa asked. The group of living packmates had formed a tightknit circle near the center of the clearing to enjoy their meal together. Melissa gazed back and forth between Mason, Corey, Nolan, Brett, and Lori from her position next to Lydia, waiting for one of them to respond.

"I don't really know how to describe it," Brett finally answered. "Dying was…I don't know. It was like falling asleep, or being knocked unconsciousness, except you don't really wake up afterwards; you just sort of become aware that you are in another place."

"Limbo world was so different from here," Lori continued. "And a lot of it is kind of hazy now, because of where we were."

"Where you were? What do you mean? Weren't you all just in Limbo?" Melissa asked.

"Not exactly," Lori explained, "I mean, we were in Limbo. But Brett and I were taken to this area where the demons try to brainwash you into serving them. So, it's hard to tell what was real and what wasn't. So much of it feels like a dream."

"More like a nightmare," Corey interjected, gaining a few curious glances in the process. "Sorry, it's just…I've died and come back to life twice, and none of it has been that great of an experience."

"Well…not all of it has been bad. Right?" Mason asked, a bit of a suggestive tone to his voice bringing a blush to Corey's cheeks.

"No, not all of it has been bad," he replied, leaning in to give his boyfriend a quick kiss.

"Well, I guess some things haven't changed then," Brett said with a cough, drawing their attention back to the group.

"I think the biggest thing," Nolan added, going back to the original question, "is that being dead forces you to change your perspective on life. I don't really know how to explain it, just that…I can't take it for granted anymore, you know? I died. I lost my life. It all ended. Now that I've been given it back, I know I need to make the most of it. I don't want to waste it because it could happen again at any time."

"That's…a lot to process," Melissa said after a few moments of silence. "I can't imagine what you all have been going through, and to have to face it at such a young age. All I can say is I'm proud of you guys, all of you." There were several embarrassed murmurs of "thank you's" from the various teens present. They lapsed back into silence as they continued their meal, each lost in their own thoughts about life and death.

"So, what is our next step?" Mason asked the group at large as they all finished eating. "I feel like a bit of a sitting duck here in this clearing, even with the protective barrier around us."

"I don't think it's safe to leave, though," Corey replied. "After what we did to get Nolan's backpack and bring it back here, anything we try is definitely gonna attract the hunters' attention. We're safer if we just lay low for awhile."

"Safer, maybe," Brett interjected, "but that's not a guarantee. Like Mason said, we're blind here. We don't know what's going on out there or who's coming, and we won't until it's too late. I think we need to go on the offensive and take down some of these hunters before their numbers grow too big for us to handle."

"They already have," Corey retorted with exasperation, "there's way too many of them for us to take on by ourselves now. At least if we stay here, we have the advantage of the barrier warning us and giving us time to hide."

"But what good is that?" Lori asked, "if all we're going to do is hide, we might as well have all stayed dead. We have to do something."

"Exactly," Brett added, "we need to try to clear out the woods as much as possible so that when Scott and the rest of the Pack get here, we can go retake the city."

"And how are you going to do that? We have no idea what's even been going on in the city," Mason replied.

"Then perhaps that needs to be our first step," Nolan interjected, tone much calmer than the others. "The reality is that we don't know enough about what's been going on since we've been gone. We need information."

"So what are you suggesting? That we send spies into the town? I know its been awhile, but I'm sure the hunters will recognize any of you guys from a mile away," Melissa said skeptically.

"Not if we can stay invisible the whole time," Nolan replied cautiously, looking at Corey with hopeful eyes.

"What? No. No way! Mason and I almost got caught sneaking into that toolshed. There were bullets flying everywhere, they had scanners that picked us up and an electric fence that almost trapped us. It's probably way worse in the town. It's too dangerous," Corey said, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from the others slightly.

"But you're our only chance at getting more info," Brett added, "you have to do this."

"I don't _have_ to do anything. Not if it means risking dying all over again," Corey answered with finality before jumping to his feet and storming off to sit by himself inside the tent.

"I don't get it. Mason, why won't your boyfriend help us?" Brett asked.

"It's not that he doesn't want to help," Mason replied, getting to his feet as well in order to follow after Corey. "It's just…he's been through a lot, and he's tired of being hurt. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Yeah, I guess. It's just…that comes with the territory when you are part of the supernatural world. Pain is unavoidable," Brett said.

"Maybe. But I think we've all had more than our fair share," Mason finished before walking away to talk with his boyfriend.

"So, now what do we do?" Lori asked.

"Nolan has the right idea," Lydia answered as she stared off, looking lost in thought once more. "Everyone has been dead or in hiding for so long. It's been almost two years since any of us had regular contact with the outside world and for the past six months it's just been me and Derek out here in the woods alone. We don't know what the world has turned into or what we might have to face out there. We are going to have to get more information before the rest of the Pack returns if we want any chance at a life and a future beyond hiding here in the Preserve."

"I agree with you. The reality is that we can't stay in this clearing forever," Melissa continued. "We've got enough supplies for a week or two; maybe a little more if we go out hunting or fishing and do our best to ration what we have. But this clearing isn't big enough to sustain the seven of us here indefinitely. And if we add another dozen people, or more…well, there's just no way that's gonna work. We will have to move out eventually."

"But, if Corey refuses to help, how do we do it? Like you said, everyone thinks we're dead, but that won't stop them from recognizing us if we just start walking through town," Nolan replied.

"Well then, we'll just have to convince Corey to help out, whether he wants to or not," Brett said with finality. They all turned as one to look at the makeshift tent where they could just make out the sounds of Mason and Corey talking softly.

-o-

"Ethan? Come on Ethan, you gotta be ok!" Jackson called out frantically, shaking his mate slightly by the shoulders in desperation.

"Jackssss?" Ethan slurred, his eyes opening slightly as he struggled to focus on the man in front of him.

"Ethan! Thank God you're ok," Jackson shouted, a grin plastered to his face as he dragged his half-conscious mate into a fierce hug, quickly followed by Aiden wrapping them both up in his own strong embrace.

"It's ok Jacks," Ethan said groggily, "you can be the cop this time. I've been a bad boy."

"What!" Aiden cried out, instantly pulling away to level a glare at Jackson, who had turned beet red.

"Ethan, be quiet!" Jackson shouted back, turning to hide his blush while Stiles and Isaac both collapsed to the ground in laughter behind them. Scott, Theo, and Derek did their best to remained composed, but struggled.

"You and I are going to have to have a _long_ talk when we get back to the world of the living," Aiden said, glancing back and forth between Ethan and Jackson.

"Why? Are you that curious about what kind of _games_ Jackson and I play?" Ethan retorted, having regained his senses as he awoke fully.

"Guys, guys, guys!" Scott interjected before they could go any further. "Maybe now isn't the best time to be having this conversation. We need to go after the chimeras and rescue Hayden, and then get out of here and back to our search."

"Scott's right," Derek said, grimacing slightly as a sharp pain shot across his temple for a moment. He took a deep breath, waiting for the pain to dissipate before continuing. "Our time is limited. If we mess around too much now, we could end up not being able to reach everyone."

"Sorry," Ethan and Aiden said in perfect unison, sharing a look with one another before rising to their feet and joining the rest. Jackson followed suit, still doing his best to hide his red-tinged skin.

"Are you ok to continue on?" Scott asked, taking a long look at Ethan's wounds.

"I'm fine, it's already mostly healed," Ethan replied, raising his shirt to confirm his words were true.

"Well then," Theo said, eyes wandering down the tunnel, "I guess that means it's time to go to the lair."

"Why do I get the feeling that isn't going to be nearly as much fun as it sounds," Stiles asked with a hiccup, regaining his composure from his place sprawled on the ground behind the rest.

"Because it's not," Theo answered. "Obviously, I have no idea what it looks like now, here in Limbo, but the set-up the Dread Doctors had when they were working on the chimera experiments was quite extensive. What you guys saw was only a small piece of it when they were closing in on the end of their experiments."

"Can you get us in without getting caught?" Isaac asked, making eye contact with the chimera as he rose to his feet.

"Maybe," Theo replied, pausing to think for a moment. "If the tunnels here are laid out the same way they were in the real world, I might have an idea."

"Lead the way," Scott said, following as Theo turned to walk down the tunnel in the opposite direction. The rest fell in step behind them, Stiles nudging Jackson in the side and leaning in to whisper something in his ear that made him blush yet again while the twins seemed locked in a silent conversation of glares, eye rolls, and hand gestures. Isaac watched in amusement while Derek stared on in bemusement until they rounded a corner and began walking down a tunnel shrouded in absolute darkness.

"There's another entrance just up here," Theo whispered to the others behind him. "I used to be the only one to use it. We'll see if that's still true."

"Somehow I don't think it is," Stiles whispered back as a low growl echoed down the hall from in front of them.

"Everyone, get ready for round two," Scott called out, stepping forward to lead the way around the corner.

"We're with you," Isaac called out just before a terrifying screech tore through the air around them.

*This is the chimera Melissa discovers already dead in her kitchen with Kira's sword sticking out of her chest. To the best of my knowledge, we're never told anything about her, and all we see of her is her red hair, bloody body, and long talons for fingernails. I decided to make her part aswang, basing her appearance and attributes on the one found in the show Grimm. Incidentally, I highly recommend Grimm, and have debated about eventually writing a story set in that universe (after I finish this one and the Les Mis one that I've put on hold).


	24. Dread End

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi all! First, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed, or commented on this story recently. My grandmother passed away the day after I posted the previous chapter, and I'll admit for awhile now I haven't been able to bring myself to continue writing this story since death is such a prominent aspect of it. I do have the rest of this story, and part of a second one, outlined, so I'm not going to give up on it. But, I make no promises at the moment as to how often I might be able to update it. For now though, I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 24: Dread End

"Wait," Scott whispered to the group, holding his hand out to both stop their progress and keep them silent. "Listen," he added, causing everyone but Stiles to concentrate on their supernatural hearing. The human/demon simply huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for them to relay what they heard back to him.

"There are eight of them," the voice of the aswang chimera echoed down the halls, "and they are stronger than we expected."

"Inconsequential," one of the Doctors replied, voice metallic and ringing in the still air.

"I agree. We should be out there, taking them out one by one. I want my revenge on McCall!" Belasko added with ferocity.

"Inconsequential," the Doctor said again, slightly more emphatically.

"More importantly," the first continued, as though she hadn't been interrupted, "both of the ones you wanted to find are there. Do you want us to go after them?"

The Dread Doctor's reply was drowned out by a sudden scream reverberating from the chamber. By the time it had subsided, the three had apparently moved on, far enough away that even supernatural wolf hearing couldn't pick up their voices.

"What do you think that means?" Isaac asked. "Who are they looking for? And what do they want with us?"

"I doubt its anything good," Theo replied, a solemn expression on his face.

"Its also not our top priority at the moment," Stiles said slowly, looking lost in thought. "We have to get Hayden and get out of here. As callous as this sounds, whatever the Dread Doctors are up to is a problem for the people who will still be in Limbo world to deal with."

He had a strange look on his face as he said it, but it went unnoticed by everyone but Derek, who continued to scrutinize the young man.

"Right," Scott added, "and that isn't us. We just need to watch each other's backs and make sure none of us get caught up in whatever it is they're doing while we are here."

"So how do we do that?" Jackson asked.

"I sense Hayden's somewhere in the next chamber over," Theo answered, closing his eyes in concentration. "The Dread Doctors have gone further into their lair, along with Belasko and the crazy girl. That leaves five of the chimeras still here, I think."

"You're right," Scott continued, "Noah and Josh, as well as Tracy, Donovan, and a girl I don't recognize." Stiles winced at the mention of Donovan's name, but otherwise everyone remained still and contemplative.

"So, can we just sneak in and get this Hayden girl?" Aiden asked.

"No, that won't work," Theo replied, "their senses are not exactly the same as a werewolf, but they are powerful enough that they will notice our presence, if they haven't already."

"Ok, so we blitz them," Ethan said, "go in fast, catch them by surprise, and subdue them as quickly as possible before the others come back."

"That might be easier said than done," Stiles retorted, "Tracy is part kanima, just a few drops of her venom will leave any of us paralyzed. Donovan," he winced again, but continued after an encouraging look from Scott," is next to impossible to touch, because he can create lamprey mouths anywhere on his body. Add in Josh's electricity, Noah's berserkerness, and whatever this other girl can do, and well…" He tapered off with a shrug of his shoulders, turning everyone's attention back to Scott. The alpha wolf stood in contemplative silence for a moment as he gathered his thoughts before replying.

"We don't have to defeat them, and we shouldn't try to kill them, or whatever you call it when someone dies in this world," he said, turning his gaze from one to another of his packmates. "All we need to do is hold them off long enough to get Hayden and get out."

"Well," Jackson said, shifting forms as he did so, "this Tracy girl is not the only one with kanima venom. If you can get me close enough, I should be able to paralyze them. That'll give us more than enough time to get away before they recover."

"Alright," Scott replied, squaring his shoulders and preparing for the battle to come, "Jackson, try to take out Tracy first. We need to make sure she doesn't knock any of us out. Isaac, you stay close to Jackson and distract her so he can get an opening. Ethan, Aiden, Theo, you guys hold Josh and Noah back. Derek, Stiles, the three of us will take Donovan and the girl, and then get Hayden. We get in and get out fast, ok? Watch each other's backs and meet back here if we get split up. Everybody ready?" He waited, making eye contact with each before nodding his head once. "Let's go!" he cried out as he led the charge around the corner and into the Dread Doctor's lair.

 _No going back now,_ Derek thought to himself as he followed his alpha into battle.

-o-

"Mase, you're not listening to me," Corey said in exasperation. The two had been arguing for several minutes now, with Corey being adamant against taking the risk to go into town and Mason trying to convince him it was necessary. "We were seconds away from being caught when we went to that toolshed, and that was with them not knowing we were there until it was too late. By now the whole town will know something is up, they'll be ready for us. Its too big a risk."

"I get that, Cor," Mason replied with a sigh, "but we can't stay here for the exact same reason. Monroe, at the very least, knows where the Nemeton is and that it is a beacon for supernatural creatures. They're bound to show up here, sooner rather than later. Doesn't it make more sense to try to gain as much intel as we can on where they are and what they are up to now, while we're waiting for the rest of the Pack to be brought to life?"

"But what if we get caught? Or what if we get killed? We have no way of talking to Scott and Stiles, if we die they won't know they need to look for us… _again."_

"That's not going to happen, we'll be careful. Its not like the toolshed where we have to keep going until we get what we're after. The moment things seem like they are getting too dangerous, we can turn around and come back."

The two boyfriends continued to argue about it for close to half an hour before reaching a tentative agreement and returning together to the campfire.

"So…what did you decide?" Lori asked, cautiously. The two boys shared a look, a silent conversation passing between them before Corey sighed in exasperation.

"I'll do it," he said, continuing on over the happy exclamations from the others, "but only on my terms."

"What would that be?" Brett asked, receiving a glare from Mason in the process.

"First," Corey replied, holding a finger up in the air for emphasis, "if we're going to do this, then I'm in charge of deciding where we go. And if I say something is too dangerous, or if I say its time to turn around and come back, nobody is gonna argue with me about it."

"That sounds reasonable," Melissa said, interjecting before anyone else could.

"And second, only two of you can go with me," Corey added, now holding up two fingers in the air. He was about to continue when a chorus of groans and arguments broke out among the rest at the campfire. "Stop!" he cried, silencing them all very effectively.

"Look," Mason said, taking over as he placed a gentle hand on his boyfriend's shoulder, "the more people Corey has to make invisible, the harder it gets for him to stay that way. Add in the fact that whoever goes with him has to stay in constant physical contact and it would just be too impractical for more than two to go along."

"That makes sense," Nolan said, thinking aloud. "This is a stealth mission, of sorts. The whole point is to remain undetectable. The more people who go, the harder it will be to remain…stealthy."

"Alright, then who should go?" Melissa asked. Almost everyone immediately responded by saying "Me, I should," or raising their hands in the air. "Ok, ok, settle down, we're going to have to narrow this down a bit."

"I have to stay here," Lydia said, cutting through the rest of them. "It would be unwise for me to leave the clearing since I'm part of the bridge holding the runes and connection to the underworld in place. I also don't think either of you should go." She pointed to Brett and Lori as she said this last part.

"Why not? I have just as much right to see what's going on in the world as anyone else does," Brett said, rising to his feet.

"Because," Lydia retorted, also standing to match him, "you two would be the easiest to detect when it comes to the supernatural world. We don't know what's out there. All it would take is a single mountain ash barrier or some wolfsbane casually lying around somewhere and you both would be down."

"I agree," Mason continued, "we're definitely going to need all of the werewolf strength we can muster when it comes time to fight the hunters. But, for this mission, it would be more of a liability than a help. The rest of us stand a better chance of blending in if we have to and not setting off any alarms they might have."

"Brett," Lori said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his arm and drawing his attention to her. "I think they're right. You and I need to stay here, for now."

"Besides, I think I have a mission of my own for the two of you," Melissa said with a wink. "Like I said earlier, we are limited on provisions. We need someone to help clear out the cellar around the base of the Nemeton so we can see what else is down there, and then we need to start hunting, fishing, and gathering whatever berries and other things we can find in the surrounding forest. Your supernatural strength, speed, and hearing would all be a real asset in those jobs."

"Fine," Brett relented with a sigh, dragging the word out as he plopped back down to the ground next to his sister, "we'll stay here and help with that stuff. But I want to go on record as saying that I still think it's a bad idea to not take one of us with you."

"Noted," Mason replied. "Now, as for who _is_ going, I think it should be me, since I have the most experience working alongside Corey while being invisible…"

"I can't imagine why that would be" Brett interjected sarcastically.

"And Nolan," Mason continued, ignoring the interruption.

"Me?" Nolan asked, looking surprised, "why do you want me to go with you?"

"Because you have the most experience dealing with the hunters, so you're our best shot at being able to avoid them and whatever traps they have laid out," Mason answered.

"I suppose that makes sense," Nolan said, contemplative, "but I've been dead awhile. A lot could have changed since then."

"You are still the best option we have, especially if we have to figure out a fast escape," Corey said, giving the boy a stern glance.

"Alright, count me in," Nolan said, standing to join them.

"We'll take the backpacks along too," Mason added, "that way if we come across anything that might be helpful we can bring it back with us. At the very least, we can gather some more food along the way."

"Sounds like a plan," Nolan finished with a small grin, going over to retrieve his own backpack from the rune circle while Corey and Mason gathered the ones Lydia had used to carry the few possessions she and Derek still had when they came to the Nemeton a few days earlier.

"You boys be careful," Melissa said, giving them each a tight hug as they prepared to set off. "What you are doing is important, but nothing is as important as making sure all three of you make it back here safe and sound. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mrs. McCall," all three of them said in unison, still a bit embarrassed by the motherly attention.

"Hey," Brett interjected, coming over to join them as they were just about to leave, "if something does happen, give your best howl. I know it's a bit of a longshot since none of you are wolves, but Lori and I will keep our ears as focused as possible while you are gone, and we'll come running if we think you need help."

"Thanks Brett," Corey said for all of them. "Ready?" he added, turning his attention to Mason and Nolan. They each nodded their heads, taking one of his outstretched hands and shimmering into invisibility.

"This is so weird," Nolan's disembodied voice said.

"You get used to it after awhile," Mason's voice carried over their almost silent footsteps. Soon, the three were past the barrier and heading off towards town.

"Be careful," Melissa whispered, quietly enough that even the nearby wolves almost couldn't hear her. "Alright, you three," she said with a clap of her hands as she turned back around, "let's get to work on this cellar."

-o-

The chimeras were momentarily caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the eight packmates, but the surprise didn't last long. Josh and Noah recovered first, quickly charging head on at the twins and Theo, who had split off from the others.

"Stilinski!" Donovan shouted, transforming as he barreled his way forward as well, "its time you pay for murdering me!" A few of the packmates faltered slightly at the pronouncement, having not heard the story of what happened between the two, but there was no time to explain. Scott and Stiles continued to dash forward, meeting Donovan and the girl (Beth, Scott vaguely recalled from his school days) in the center of the room.

The Dread Doctor's lair was indeed far larger than they had known. The operating theater that Scott and the others had encountered during the days when they were alive could be glimpsed through an archway off to one side. This is where Hayden was currently kept, strapped down to a metal table with several tubes and wires intersecting her body and the various implements surrounding her. But the room itself was a small nook compared to the huge cavern-like area they had just entered. It looked as though it had, at one time, been a water storage room, with high, vaulted ceilings and several feeder tunnels splitting off in all directions. The usual drab gray of Limbo was tinged green in this part of the world. The floor was sloped in places, with stairs in others leading to other rooms. Giant support pillars dotted the area, looking very worn and chipped but still managing to keep the ceiling above their heads. Tracy used these to her advantage, quickly shifting into kanima form and darting up one of the pillars far out of reach of those on the ground.

"How are we going to get her when she's way up there," Jackson muttered to the wolves on either side of him as they raced towards her.

"Leave that to me," Derek replied, taking the lead as they charged forward. He rammed, shoulder first, into the pillar, crumbling the lower section to pieces almost instantly. The aged, dilapidated rock, was no match for the werewolf, and without the base the rest of the pillar quickly collapsed as well, sending Tracy plummeting back to the ground with huge pieces of rock cascading down around them all.

"Look out!" Isaac shouted as Stiles and Scott jumped out of the way of the falling debris. A cloud of dust quickly enveloped them all, making it next to impossible to see apart from their enhanced vision. Tracy managed to use the dust cloud to her advantage, keeping low to the ground and out of sight from the others.

On the other side of the cavern, the battle between Theo, the twins, Josh, and Noah gained intensity. The berserker seemed to have taken full control of Noah's body, and he fought without any sense of self-preservation. Aiden tackled him from behind while Ethan came at him from the front, but their hits did little to slow the chimera down. Josh, meanwhile, was out for blood, particularly Theo's.

"I'm going to enjoy taking your afterlife from you Theo," Josh said, gathering as much electricity as he could until the hairs on Theo's arms stood on end.

"Josh, look, if you'll just give me a chance to…"

"There are no second chances, Theo, not for you," Josh shouted as he darted forward, an electric arc jumping between his hands as he moved to sink his claws into Theo's chest. Theo just barely managed to jump out of the way at the last second, countering by tripping the electrified chimera and sending him to the ground.

"Josh, please, I don't want to have to hurt you," Theo pleaded as he regained his footing, standing above the younger boy.

"That's too bad, cause I really, really want to hurt you," Josh replied, pouncing back upwards, claws first. Theo fell back to the ground in his effort to get out of the way, Josh sailing over top of him to land a few feet away. Unfazed, they both stood once more, Theo on the defensive with Josh charging at him with everything he had.

A mighty shriek drew their attention for the briefest of moments back to the center of the room. Tracy had tried to use the cloud of dust to her advantage, but had forgotten that it would offer the same advantage to the others. She stalked closer towards Derek, and was just about to lash out at him with her claws when the swipe of another kanima tail, Jackson's, drew across the back of her neck, instantly paralyzing her. She continued to scream obscenities at him as she collapsed to the ground, but was unable to do any more than move her head and watch the fight that continued to rage amidst the rubble surrounding them.

Donovan had singled out Stiles, instantly going on the offensive with wendigo teeth bared and lamprey mouths covering every inch of visible skin.

"You know, that is a really ugly look, just saying," Stiles quipped as he ducked around the flailing punches thrown at him.

"Well, you'd be the one to know, wouldn't you?" Donovan retorted. "I've heard all about the beast that you become these days."

"Oh, you mean this?" Stiles asked, quickly switching to demon form and letting out a roar that shook the whole room. With a burst of speed from his wings, he managed to tackle Donovan to the ground, the two rolling across the dirt and dust locked in a ferocious wrestling match.

"What are you going to do, Stilinski? Kill me again?" Donovan asked, causing Stiles to stumble just long enough for him to get a lamprey-mouthed palm attached to the demon's shoulder. The pain and memory of their last battle on earth snapped Stiles out of his reverie, and he quickly threw the chimera off, causing him to crash into another of the support pillars, which crumbled to the ground around them both.

"Beth, you don't have to do this," Scott called out, trying to keep the girl at bay as the battles raged around them.

"No, no, no, no, no. Tracy, Donovan!" Beth shrieked, watching her friends fall in horror before turning her gaze on the alpha wolf. "You won't get away with this!" She shrieked again, a terrible, piercing sound, as her body slowly morphed and grew. They soon discovered she was an even greater monstrosity than the others, part lowenmensch and part garuda, giving her the appearance of the griffins of Greek mythology.

Scott tried again to calm her, but she attacked before he could say anything. Isaac darted forward, redirecting her attack and receiving a giant gash across his chest from one of her talons in the process. Derek and Jackson quickly joined the battle also, and it devolved into complete chaos.

Soon a third support pillar came crashing down as berserker Noah was pushed back by the tag-team of twins. They used the moment of reprieve to catch their breath, surveying the landscape around them. Theo was caught in a game of cat and mouse with Josh, dodging the electrified attacks rather than meet him head on. Demon-Stiles had managed to get the upper hand on Donovan, near the center of the room, but the two seemed locked in battle with one another and several more mouth shaped wounds had begun to appear on the demonic skin. The battle between Beth and the others raged off to the other side of the room, the Packmates dodging her fierce talons and snapping beak as they tried to land a hit. Jackson had been knocked to the ground, stunned for the moment and unable to help.

"Scott!" Ethan cried above the chaos, gaining the alpha's attention. "You need to hurry…" he was cut off before he could finish by a flying kick from Noah, which was countered instantly by Aiden. The twins were caught in battle once more and unable to say anything else, but the message had been received.

"You guys hold her off, I'll go get Hayden," Scott said to Derek and Isaac, darting around the chimera before they could reply. Isaac's gash continued to bleed unchecked, but he nevertheless dove headlong into the battle, managing to knock Beth to the ground long enough for Derek to jump on top as well. Together, they kept her pinned, shrieking and shouting, while Scott ran full tilt into the operating theater. He was a dozen feet away when he slammed headfirst into a wall of mountain ash, which knocked him flat on his back. He stood, reaching out for the invisible barrier, and found its presence. He pushed against it, trying to muster the strength he had used before in life to get across one of these, but to no avail. Either the mountain ash owned by the Dread Doctors was stronger than usual, or he was simply too exhausted from battle to be able to break through the barrier. "I can't get to her!" he cried out in frustration, turning back to see how his Pack was doing.

Things had devolved quickly in the brief moment his attention had been diverted. Josh, tired of chasing after Theo, had simply electrified the whole surrounding area, sending shock waves through the floor, walls, and nearby pillars. Theo was caught in the crossfire, convulsing wildly as the electricity coursed through his body. The twins were still managing to hold their own against Noah, but the berserker showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. Beth had managed to regain her footing enough to knock Derek and Isaac off, and the three were locked in battle once more, a tangled mess of claws and fangs and talons. Jackson had recovered enough to stand again, but still looked a little wobbly on his feet, and was obviously in no condition to fight. Meanwhile, Stiles had managed to get Donovan pinned to the ground, though it meant enduring the bites of the lamprey mouths at every point their bodies touched.

Turning back towards Hayden and the mountain ash barrier, Scott took a deep breath, calming his nerves and centering his self. He slowly placed both hands on the barrier, wincing slightly at the pain the contact gave him. "Hayden!" he growled, the low rumble echoing through the chambers and shaking the room slightly. More rock from the ceiling plummeted to the ground as another of the pillars collapsed near the operating theater.

At the alpha summons, Hayden stirred, blinking into consciousness. "Scott?" she said, drowsily, turning her head to watch as he continued to push forward, the barrier almost physically warping around him. She struggled against the bindings strapping her to the table, managing to break free and jump to her feet. A few seconds later, with a thunderous shout, Scott broke through the barrier, mountain ash blowing everywhere as the shockwave reverberated through the chamber. Scott fell to his knees, panting, as Hayden rushed forward, draping one of her alpha's arms across her shoulder to drag him back to his feet.

The shockwave brought two more pillars crashing to the ground, dust and debris now littering the whole area. The ceiling began to creak and groan, sagging inwards at the loss of the support structures. All eyes in the room turned upwards as cracks began to crisscross the whole surface, drawing an intricate and ominous web above their heads.

"Retreat!" Beth shouted as she flung Derek and Isaac to the ground, barreling through Jackson to grab the still paralyzed Tracy. Josh and Noah didn't wait, their footfalls echoing through the cavern as they darted towards one of the antechambers off to the side.

"Come on, we need to get out of here!" Aiden shouted as a piece of the ceiling larger than a person came crashing down a few feet from where he stood. He didn't wait for a response, quickly grabbing his brother and dragging him back towards the tunnel they had come through. Isaac hobbled after them, clutching at the wound in his chest as he darted around the debris. More rocks began to fall as Derek raced to grab a still convulsing Theo, picking the chimera up and hoisting him over his shoulder to carry him out of the cavern. Hayden followed quickly behind, still supporting Scott as the alpha's breathing began to even out. Jackson came next, staggering slightly and now in human form. Ethan broke away from his brother's firm grasp to race back and grab his mate, supporting him as they jogged back towards the entrance. Another slab of stone came crashing down, as big as a car, echoing through the chamber.

"Stiles! Come on!" Derek called out to the lone remaining Pack member, who was still pinning Donovan to the ground in the center of the chamber.

"You have to let go of me," Donovan cried, eyes bulging in terror as he watched the ceiling above them continue to crumble. "If you don't, we'll both be crushed!"

"I've survived a cave-in in Limbo before," Demon-Stiles replied sinisterly, a slight smirk on his terrifying features. " _I_ will be just fine." Donovan gulped, fear coursing through his veins and nearly palpable in the air.

"Stiles! Leave him, we need to go!" Aiden shouted across the din. The cloud of dust and rubble now obscured the demon and his quarry from view.

"Please!" Donovan shouted, "please, just let go!"

"Why should I? Do you know how much suffering you've caused me? Do you have any idea what you took from me?" Demon-Stiles growled menacingly in the chimera's face, causing him to turn away and whimper. Another stone crashed to the ground, narrowly missing the two by inches. Donovan trembled, staring at it while another pillar collapsed on the other side of the room.

"Stiles," Scott called out, just barely loud enough to be heard across the chaos. "Stiles, I need you. We need you. Let him go."

"Scott," Demon-Stiles said with a sigh, turning his head to face the direction the others were in, desperately waiting and calling out for him. "Fine," he said, jumping to his feet. He took one last look at the chimera on the ground, who was quickly scrambling to get away, before taking off and flying across the cavern, dodging the debris still falling all around him. He made it back to the others, practically colliding with them all in the narrow tunnel just seconds before the remaining pillars finally gave way and the entire ceiling caved in. "Brace yourselves!" Stiles called out, as the force of the impact sent them cascading to the ground. The rumbles of the cave-in and the shaking of the ground kept them sprawled across the tunnel floor for several minutes, until finally the chaos subsided and the dust began to settle.

"Is everyone ok?" Scott called out, turning to each of them one by one. They were definitely battered, sporting several injuries from the battle with the chimeras and their escape. But none of them were critical, and they each answered in the affirmative. They would heal, in time. Scott stood and took in the entrance to the cavern, now completely covered by fallen rock. "At least we don't have to worry about them following us."

"How do we get out of here?" Isaac asked, a note of trepidation in his voice as he glanced furtively around the narrow corridor.

"I think I might know a way out," Hayden replied, clambering to her feet as well and taking stock of what was going on. "Although, you all have a lot of explaining to do along the way," She added, watching with a mixture of curiosity and terror as the demon transformed back into Stiles and the twins helped support an injured Jackson between them.

"Well Hayden, let me be the first to…" Stiles began, before being interrupted.

"Stiles, we need to talk," Scott said, quietly but with a look of determination.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," he replied, after a moment of taking in his best friend's expression.

"Hayden, lead the way out of here, we need to keep moving, just in case the Doctors and chimeras try to come after us again," Scott said, turning back to the rest of the Pack. "Everyone else can explain on the way what we are doing and answer your questions." Hayden nodded solemnly, before turning an inquisitive eye on Derek, who was still carrying Theo.

"Yeah, yeah, alright," Derek replied, chagrined, beginning the story as they set out, with Scott and Stiles hanging back far enough behind the rest to give their conversation some privacy.

"Ok Stiles, tell me what's going on," Scott began, giving his friend a searching look.

-o-

"You let them escape!" Belasko cried out, incredulously. He, the aswang chimera, and the three Dread Doctors had all watched from an upper chamber as the battles raged below them, up until the main cavern's ceiling had collapsed. "And now the lair is practically destroyed!"

"Inconsequential," the Surgeon replied.

"Is that the only thing you are capable of saying?" Belasko shouted in frustration. The Pathologist, standing nearby, quickly knocked him to the ground, holding him there with an electromagnetic pulse.

"They are of more use to us if they believe themselves to be free," the Surgeon said with disdain, watching as Belasko struggled to get up but was unable to do so. "We will observe from the shadows, and wait until the moment is right to make our next move. Nora."

"Yes sir," the aswang chimera replied, stepping forward.

"Follow, but remain hidden," the Surgeon ordered, turning to watch the dust settle in the cavern below and follow the progress of the remaining chimeras stumbling through the tunnels.

"Of course, sir," Nora replied, bowing as she shifted forms. "You can trust in me." She silently scaled the wall nearby, scurrying across the ceiling unnoticed by the five chimeras bursting into the room below her. Soon, she was out the door and racing down the tunnels where she knew she would be able to intercept their adversaries. _After all,_ she thought to herself, _it's the only way out of these tunnels. They have no choice. It'll be all too easy to pick up their trail and see where they go next. I will make my masters proud._


	25. Welcome to Beacon Hills

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: So, I know I rushed through the last section, mostly because I got stuck on it and was at a point where I simply wanted to get it done. This, however, is the start of a series of chapters (through about 30 or so), that I have really been looking forward to writing, so hopefully you won't have as long a wait from here on out. Reviews and comments are always appreciated, and good motivation to get back to writing. For now, enjoy!

Chapter 25: Welcome to Beacon Hills

It was a solemn group that trekked through the water treatment tunnels of Limbo. Derek eventually put Theo back down at the chimera's insistence that he was well enough to walk, but the electricity had done enough damage that he still leaned heavily on the wolf's arm for support as he healed. Jackson was half carried as well, supported between the twins with one arm slung across each of their shoulders. Isaac stumbled along next to them, wincing slightly in pain with each step. Hayden, the least for wear of the group, led the slow, steady walk down seemingly endless corridors while Scott and Stiles followed far enough behind that their conversation could be tuned out.

Hayden was surprised, to say the least, to hear about the Pack's adventures in Limbo and the plan to bring everyone back to life, but she quickly came on board with the idea and offered to help in anyway that she could.

"Now that that's settled," Derek said after a lull in the conversation, "Hayden, what was going on with the Dread Doctors? And why were you with them in the first place?"

"Believe me, it wasn't my idea of a good time. I was captured," she replied, gravely, "They are doing experiments again, on all of the chimeras that they can find, even ones like me that aren't chimeras any longer. None of us really knew what was going on though, other than Belasko and Nora – those two sort of replaced Theo as leader of the chimeras. From what I overheard, I think they are trying to bring themselves back to life also, but I don't really know for sure."

"That's just what we need," Theo muttered, "for those three to be waiting for us when we return to the real world."

"Does that mean we should go back and try to stop them?" Isaac asked, glancing furtively from one face to the next.

"We'll need to check with Scott to make sure, but I don't think so," Aiden replied.

"Right, like he and Stiles said earlier, whatever the Doctors do down here is not our concern," Ethan continued. "Our focus needs to be on finding the rest of the Pack and getting everyone safely back to the real world…"

"After that," Aiden picked back up, "if the Dread Doctors return too, we'll fight them. And if they don't, then they really aren't our concern. At least, not until we return to this world again in the future."

"Why'd you have to end on that," Jackson grumbled, "you were sounding so positive there for a moment."

"Just being realistic," the twins said in unison, causing Jackson to groan louder. "Please tell me you aren't going to do that all the time." The conversation became much more lighthearted as they all teased one another and finished filling Hayden in on what had happened in the world of the living after she had died. Meanwhile, a little ways behind them, a much more serious conversation was taking place.

"Ok Stiles, tell me what's going on," Scott said, giving his friend a searching look.

"Well, we're walking down this long and dreary storm drain tunnel at the moment and…" Stiles began before being cut off.

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Scott said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder and bringing him to a stop.

"Yeah, Scotty, I know," Stiles replied with a sigh, turning to make eye contact.

"Stiles, I know that things are all over the place right now, and dying has…changed…us in a lot of ways, but I'm still your best friend, and I'm worried about you. The stuff the Nogitsune said about what you had to do to take over that demon that's inside you…the way it reacted when we met the pixie…the secrets you're keeping about this plan to bring everyone back to life…and now this thing with Donovan. I mean, what we're you going to do, let yourself be crushed by the falling rocks just so you could take him out also? I'm worried, Stiles," Scott spoke with an openness and intensity that cut Stiles to the core, causing him to turn away as they slowly followed the rest of the group.

"I'm sorry, Scott," he eventually said, speaking at the ground. "I don't know what you want me to say or how to get you to stop worrying about me."

"Just tell me the truth. Please?" Scott pleaded.

Stiles let out a long sigh before replying. "There's not that much to tell, honestly. I know you and Derek don't like this thing I have going on with the demon inside, but its not as big a deal as you are trying to make it out to be."

"Then how did you do it?" Scott asked. "You can trust me."

"I used an old spell that Deaton, our Deaton, taught me," Stiles said, gravely. "I had to modify it a bit to get it to work properly here in Limbo though, and the possession thing was an unforeseen side effect."

"What was supposed to happen?"

"The original spell was designed to make another's will bend to the caster's own," Stiles said, glancing warily at his friend as he said it. "Once it takes hold, the person it is placed upon becomes a sort of…puppet, I guess, for lack of a better term…and does whatever the caster tells them to."

There was a very long pause after that statement, Scott's face betraying a whirlwind of underlying emotions and questions. "Why would Deaton even teach you that?" he finally settled on.

"Because," Stiles said, closing his eyes so he wouldn't see Scott's reaction, "we were planning on using it on Monroe."

"You were what!" Scott exclaimed, causing a few of the others to glance back towards them curiously before he waved them off. "What do you mean you were going to use that on Monroe?"

"We were running out of options, Scott," Stiles replied defensively. "Everyone around us was being killed off one by one. We had to do _something._ It's not like Deaton or I wanted to control Monroe. And it wouldn't have been a permanent thing anyway. We were just going to use the spell long enough to get her to call off her forces and go somewhere far, far away. That way we could get everyone out of Beacon Hills safely, regroup somewhere else, maybe create some new identities and start new lives in anonymity. It was the best plan we could come up with!"

"Ok, ok," Scott said, backing off slightly. "So, why didn't you do it then?"

"Never had a chance," Stiles answered with a shrug. "Deaton had only just started teaching it to me when we got separated. And then he was killed. I wasn't able to master it before I was killed too." Scott looked lost at that, pained by the memories. "Incidentally," Stiles continued, "that's why you shouldn't worry about the demon taking me over and why the pixie thing wasn't a big deal. The spell can be ended, but it can't go in reverse, meaning I can control the demon but he can't control me. And I was successful in casting it, so the demon's will is completely bent to my own. I just wasn't expecting that to mean it would come to share a body with me."

"And you're really ok with that, even after…" Scott began before trailing off.

"It wasn't my first choice. I admit I kind of freaked out about it for awhile until George Deaton helped me get a better understanding of it," Stiles said. "But yeah, I'm ok with it. It's not like the Nogitsune, at all. I can tell where the demon's consciousness is inside me, and I can tell that it isn't doing anything to me. You should know I would never allow something else to take over _my_ mind or use me like that again."

"Yeah, I get that, its just…I don't know, you've been different since, well…" Scott began again, once more trailing off.

"Since dying?" Stiles asked, grimacing at Scott's reaction to the word. "You've been different too. We all have. I think that's part of what happens when we die; we also change. I know we keep saying everything is going to go back to the way it was, but I don't think that's true. Everyone we bring back to life will be different than they were the first time, changed by their experiences here. As Alpha, that's something you'll have to guide them all through, once this is all over."

"And I will. Or, at least, I'll do my best," Scott replied solemnly.

"Then I know it will be alright. You're best is enough," Stiles said with a wistful grin. The two shared a moment of silence, something passing between the two of them that only they could truly understand.

"So, what about Donovan?" Scott asked, carefully. Stiles groaned but didn't turn away this time.

"I…lost control for a moment."

"Of the demon?"

"Of myself," he said with a grimace. "I almost lost everything because of Donovan when we were alive. He tried to kill my dad. He tried to kill me. And then, when I killed him, something changed inside me, and because of pre-reformed Theo's manipulations, I almost lost you and the rest of our friends. Seeing him again, here…I don't know, all of that just kind of came back to the surface and I wanted to make him pay for what he took from me before. The thought that he is still back there, somewhere, with his chimera friends and Dread creators, it really bugs me. But I am sorry, I didn't mean to get carried away in our fight, and I definitely don't want to get revenge on him if it means sacrificing what we are all working to do here."

"Ok," Scott said after taking another moment to think about it.

"Ok?"

"Mmhmm," Scott murmured, "I believe you. Don't look so shocked," he continued with a laugh, seeing Stiles' reaction, "I get it. After everything we went through, knowing that the Dread Doctors are here, planning something and doing experiments, it bothers me too. And seeing how you reacted to Donovan, that scared me. I thought _I_ was going to lose _you_ all over again. But, knowing that you can admit you made a mistake, and seeing that you are here with us instead of back there still fighting, I trust you. I know you'll do the right thing." Scott stopped to pull Stiles into a one-armed hug, which Stiles sunk into in relief.

"Thanks," he breathed out in relief, "that means more to me than I can say."

"So," Scott said, pulling away slightly so they could continue walking, "no more secrets?"

"I…" Stiles stuttered out before a shout down the corridor interrupted them.

"Derek? Derek!" Isaac called out, a hand on the older wolf's shoulder shaking him gently. "What's wrong? What's going on?" Derek didn't answer, instead groaning in pain as he held his head between his hands and doubled over slightly. Scott and Stiles rushed to join them, calling out as they did.

"What's wrong?" "What's happened?"

"I don't know," Isaac answered, fearfully. "He was fine a second ago, we were all just talking. Then he screamed and now he's like this."

"I'm…ok…now," Derek huffed, leaning heavily against the wall as he lowered his hands slowly from his face and breathed in deeply. "It was…just…a headache."

"No," Stiles said grimly, shaking his head, "I was afraid of this."

"What?" Scott asked, tearing his gaze from the former alpha to pierce his best friend instead, "do you know what's going on?"

"It's a side effect of splitting Derek's spirit from his body. Those two things can't just stay separate forever. And the longer it goes, the worse it will get," Stiles replied.

"Does that mean we need to all go back now?" Theo asked, cautiously.

"What about the others? We still have a bunch of people left to find," Ethan added.

"I said I'm fine, it was just a little headache and now its gone," Derek said, straightening back up and crossing his arms across his chest.

"But for how long?" Isaac asked, turning from Derek to Stiles to Scott and back again.

"Stiles?" Scott asked. Stiles sighed once more before replying.

"I guess as long as Derek feels up to continuing, we can keep going," he said, studying the older wolf as he did so. "But these headaches, muscle aches, and so on are only going to get more frequent and more severe the longer he stays here. My guess is we have maybe two or three days left before the pain simply sets in and doesn't go away. George Deaton said this spell wouldn't be able to last longer than a week, and it's already been over three days."

"Ok then," Scott said, glancing at each of his packmates in turn. "We've known all along we would have a deadline on this. Now we know basically when it is. We need to pick up the pace and get the rest of the Pack before we run out of time. Agreed?" Each one nodded his or her head in approval, before turning as one to continue down the tunnel at a much brisker pace than before, each lost in his or her own thoughts along the way.

-o-

Corey, Nolan, and Mason ambled through the woods in relative peace, unhindered by any obstacles. "What do you think is going on down in Limbo?" Corey finally asked, breaking the silence as they trekked carefully along a narrow path.

"It's hard to say," Nolan answered. "There was only one door still remaining in the Portcullis when I…left. I guess the others would have gone through it, but I have no clue what would have been on the other side or where they'd go from there."

"As long as they make it back here, that's all that really matters," Mason finished with conviction. The others nodded their heads in agreement.

"So, what do you think has been happening here in the real world while we've been dead?" Nolan asked, changing topics.

"I can't imagine its anything good," Corey replied, disdainfully.

"We know that Monroe's still around, and she's been increasing security," Mason added, ignoring Nolan's inquisitive glance as he continued. "Corey and I overheard a couple of security guards talking on our way to that toolshed. I don't think she knows what we are doing, but she is expecting some sort of attack, and specifically from the McCall Pack."

"Oh," Nolan said, after a pause. "That's…not…how does she know to expect the McCall Pack to attack her? As far as she knows, they're…I mean we're…all dead." He blushed slightly as he corrected himself, but it went unnoticed by the others.

"I don't know. They said something about the guys guarding the Nemeton freaking out. I think that would have been when Stiles first did that mist-appearing thing. Other than that, who knows," Corey said, motioning for silence as they neared the road that ran through the middle of the Preserve.

"Alright, be on your guard," Mason whispered, unnecessarily as both Nolan and Corey were already glancing furtively in all directions. The three stepped forward cautiously, staying to the edge to avoid being hit by any cars passing by. None did, however. They walked the couple of miles to town in silence, undisturbed by anything but the hoot of a distant owl and the occasional rustle of the wind.

As they rounded the final bend in the road to reach the outskirts of town, they stopped in shock. "No way," Mason said, gaping.

"They couldn't," Nolan said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"This is bad," Corey finished, "maybe we should just head back."

"We can't," Mason retorted, "if anything, this just proves how much we need to get into town and see what's going on."

"Mase, read the sign!" Corey exclaimed. "We're just asking for trouble if we go down there."

"I am reading the sign, Cor," Mason replied. "But it doesn't change anything about our plan. We still need to get information, and the three of us are our best shot at doing it. Especially now."

"I'm just glad Brett and Lori didn't come," Nolan added, "otherwise we'd be stuck for sure." The others murmured in agreement.

At the bottom of the hill stood the old "Welcome to Beacon Hills" sign. Attached to the bottom of the sign was a new addition boldly proclaiming "A Supernatural Free Zone," and below that, in fancy script, were the words "Mayor: Tamora Monroe." Placed next to the sign was a new guard station, connected to a short, wooden fence that presumably continued around the entire town and a wooden beam extending across the entire road.

"How much do you want to bet that the new fence is made of mountain ash?" Corey asked.

"I'm sure that much is a given," Mason replied.

"How could they possibly elect Monroe as mayor?" Nolan whispered, incredulous. "Where did she get that kind of support?"

"I guess a lot can happen in two years," Corey said with a shrug.

"She would have been the only one who seemed to 'know' what they were up against, once they started revealing the supernatural world to everyone in town," Mason continued. "I suppose it makes sense that most people would see that as a good thing if they didn't know any better."

"Yeah, but still," Nolan replied, blindsided by the implications, "that means…well that means things are going to be a whole lot more difficult for us."

"Guys, maybe we should just give up on Beacon Hills," Corey said, cautiously.

"What do you mean?" Mason asked. "We can't give up on bringing everyone back to life. Even if we wanted to, we have no way of contacting the others anyway."

"No, I didn't mean give up on _life,_ " Corey replied, exasperated. "I mean, once everyone is here, maybe we should just find somewhere else to live. Let Monroe have this town. Why can't we go somewhere else, somewhere where the people won't be actively trying to kill us all the time?"

"Well, for starters, the 'beacon' is here. The Nemeton will always draw supernatural creatures to this area, and it's not fair to them if they get drawn into a trap like this one," Mason said, thoughtfully.

"Besides," Nolan continued, "if this is now town-wide, I doubt it will remain a secret elsewhere for very long. We'll probably run into the same attitudes and problems anywhere we go. We'd just be trading Monroe for some other power-hungry hunter."

"But I have no idea how we are going to fix this one," Mason finished, looking over the sign and guard station with disdain. "Things just got a whole lot more complicated."

"I suppose that means you want to sneak into town and see what's going on?" Corey said with a sigh, glancing at his boyfriend for confirmation before continuing. "Alright then, but my rules still stand. If I say we're leaving, then we're leaving."

"We're with you," Nolan said, giving Corey's hand a gentle squeeze. "Lead the way."

"Welcome to Beacon Hills," Corey said sarcastically as he led the others to a secluded section of the fence away from the guard station.

-o-

The group, led by Hayden, soon reached their destination, a spot where the tunnels came to an end with a ladder and hatch leading to the surface.

"Talk about déjà vu," Isaac said as they gathered at the base of the ladder. "Isn't this exactly the same hatch we went through when we found Brett and Lori?"

"It definitely looks the same," Scott agreed.

"Eh, it's Limbo. The real question is: what are we going to find on the other side this time?" Stiles added.

"Let's find out," Ethan said, climbing up the ladder to force the hatch open. "Whoa, no way!"

"What? What is it?" Aiden called to his twin.

"You guys gotta get up here and check this out," Ethan replied, scrambling the rest of the way up and disappearing through the hatch. The others quickly followed suit, altogether surprised by where they had landed.

The hatch opened up into the middle of the road next to the welcome sign for Beacon Hills. The area looked nearly identical to the town they had all once called home, except for the ever-present drab-gray sky of Limbo.

"At least its nice and open," Isaac said, breathing deeply and visibly relaxing as he peered around at the nearby trees and buildings off in the distance.

"Yeah, but why is it here? Is this normal?" Theo asked, glancing to several of the others.

"I'm not sure there is such a thing as 'normal' around here," Stiles retorted.

"Well, you got that much right at least," a new voice said, causing the group to whip around and notice Braeden casually walking down the road towards them.

"Braeden? What are you doing here?" Scott asked, stepping forward to welcome her.

"Waiting for you," she replied, smirking at the looks of confusion her answer brought. "I heard rumors – something about McCall putting his pack back together. Figured you'd show up here eventually."

"Why would you assume…" Scott began before trailing off as he scented the air. "Oh? Oh! Wait, who all is here?"

"I don't know for sure. A few of them, at least," Braeden said, nonchalantly pulling her gun from its holster to check something. "Getting them isn't going to be easy though."

"It never is," Stiles replied, mournfully.

"Hey! Don't get complacent. This place is way weirder and way more dangerous than the Beacon Hills of the real world, and its crawling with Monroe's dead hunters. I'm sure they'd just love to take another crack at you all," Braeden scolded as she put her gun away. "They've got sentries covering all of the main ways into town. If you want in, you're going to have to figure out a way to sneak in without being seen." They all contemplated that in silence for several moments, occasionally tossing out ideas, only to have them be rejected.

"How about the school?" Jackson finally asked, cautiously. "The property backs up onto the forest, we could get there through the trees. From there we all at least know the terrain well, so that would help us avoid being seen."

"It's not a bad idea," Braeden replied thoughtfully, "I don't think the hunters have as much of a presence on that side of town anyway, and the school would offer some protection in case we are attacked."

"Well then, let's go," Derek said with a huff, earning an inquisitive glance from the Pack's newest recruit. They set off through the dense underbrush as silently as possible, cautiously picking their way through the trees and bushes. Eventually, the silence became too much for Stiles.

"Braeden," he queried from his position at the rear of the group, "can I ask you something?"

"If I say no, are you still going to ask me anyway?" she muttered from her spot near the front.

"Yes," Stiles immediately replied, cheekily.

"Fine, what is it?" she grumbled.

"Earlier you said you heard rumors about what we were doing, and that's how you knew we'd show up here. I just want to know where you heard that, and if its something we need to worry about," Stiles asked, becoming more serious as he spoke and gaining the others' thoughtful attention as well.

"Morrell is where I heard it from," Braeden said, glancing back briefly. "She passed through here yesterday, said something about needing to stop something before it got out of hand. Anyways, I asked if she needed help and she said I should be trying to find you all instead. My guess is she is hoping I'll talk you out of trying to resurrect all your friends."

"Are you?" Scott asked, curiously.

"Of course not," she replied with a grin. "I'd like to go back too, enjoy some of the peace and quiet I never got to enjoy the first time 'round. I believe I have earned it after all I went through, between the Desert Wolf and you guys. And who knows," she said with a wink towards Derek, "maybe I'll find someone to enjoy that peace and quiet with me."

"Um, yeah…maybe," Derek said awkwardly, blushing slightly as he turned away. His gaze fell instead upon Stiles, who wore a very odd, almost hurt, expression on his face as he watched the exchange.

The group soon lapsed back into silence, hiding in the bushes and concentrating on not accidentally drawing any hunters' attention as two armed men passed by on patrol. When they had gone, Scott and Braeden led the way down an embankment alongside the service road that would lead them to the back of the school.

"Alright, from here on out we have to leave the cover of the forest," Braeden said solemnly to the tight huddle of friends, "stay sharp out there, keep your eyes open, and don't take any unnecessary risks."

"It's possible the hunters won't recognize us," Derek added, "at least not at first. Stay in human form unless you absolutely need to shift."

"All we need to do is find our friends and get out of here," Scott said.

"Somehow I have a feeling that's going to be easier said than done," Theo finished as they heard a loud hiss come from nearby.

"What was that?" Aiden asked, cautiously.

"Another kanima," Jackson replied with a grimace.

"Wait? Tracy? Did she follow us here?" Hayden asked, slowly extending her claws in spite of Derek's warning.

"No, its not Tracy," Jackson answered, eyes narrowing at the reptilian creature. It stood on the fence encircling the lacrosse field, eyes roaming over the tree line slowly as though it was searching for something.

"It's Matt," Scott added, scenting the air once more.

"Matt? As in, freaky-stalker-psycho-killer Matt? Kanimatt?" Stiles asked, incredulous.

"As in, the guy-who-controlled-me-and-made-me-murder-a-dozen-people Matt," Jackson finished, hunching down to the ground. His breathing became heavy and his skin began to take on a reptilian tinge of its own.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Ethan cried out, noticing the change and quickly jumping in front of his mate. "What do you think you are doing?" Aiden stealthily crept closer, in case his brother needed assistance while the rest of the Pack watched warily.

"I'm gonna kill him and get revenge for what he did to me," Jackson replied, tone icy and dripping with venom. "Get out of my way." Kanima Matt hissed again, his attention now focused on Jackson and the others. He jumped down from the fence and began slowly crawling his way towards the group.

"Jacks, I can't do that," Ethan said, desperately trying to force eye contact with his boyfriend. "We've worked so hard to move past all that. You're so much better now, I won't let you throw it all away."

"Jackson, he's right," Scott said quietly, "Remember, we have to prioritize. And right now, Matt isn't our concern. We should just leave him alone and get back to our mission."

Jackson took a moment to respond, before letting out a sigh and almost visibly deflating. "Yeah, you're right. Come on, let's get out of here."

"Aww, that is a shame," someone called from the shadows near the entrance to the school. "And here I was hoping we could have some fun, like old times."

"Gerard!" Scott, Derek, Stiles, and Isaac all exclaimed in unison while Jackson and the others stared at the man in horror.


	26. Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: I'm back! Not as quickly as I would have liked, but at least not as delayed as I have been. Hope you enjoy! If you do, leave me a note and tell me what you think.

Chapter 26: Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

 _No, no, no, no, no, not again,_ he thought to himself, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. _Why does it have to be him? After everything we went through, after everything he took from me, from my family, from my Pack._ Derek could feel another headache rapidly approaching as he mentally struggled with the unexpected arrival. _I need to make him pay,_ the thought started out small and quiet, but quickly began to drive everything else away. He could feel the shift beginning, the fangs and hair growing as his claws slowly extended. _I need to punish him for what he did to us._ His inner wolf was tearing at his chest for release, for a chance to lunge forward, to rip and tear, to kill. To avenge, to protect. _No, no, get ahold of yourself Derek,_ he chastised himself as he reined the wolf back inside, the pain in his head now pounding away at his temples, _you can't do that, not here and now. Scott's the alpha, wait for his signal, follow his lead._ He felt a hand tentatively squeeze his own, and his eyes flared open, glowing ice blue, to meet an equally intense, concerned pair of brown eyes. _Stiles,_ Derek thought, allowing those eyes to calm him and compel him, taking refuge in them and slowly regaining focus and control. Stiles squeezed his hand reassuringly once more, before turning their attention back towards the psychopath in front of them. He was speaking, though Derek had missed the first part of his monologue during his own internal struggle.

"…I get it Scott," Gerard sneered, his voice haughty and grating as he stepped slightly closer to the Packmates' tight circle, "they are your _friends,_ and you just _have_ to save them. But you should know it's a waste of time."

"No, you're wrong," Scott replied quietly, almost solemnly, "I can't promise I will succeed, but even if I fail, trying to bring my Pack together will never be a waste of time. They are worth it."

"Perhaps you are right, but then what?" Gerard prodded, taking another step closer, "What do you think you are going to do when you have gathered all your little friends together? Sit around in the caves of Limbo and sing kumbaya? Live happily ever after here in this god-forsaken place? No, there's more to this little plan of yours. Why don't you tell me what it is?"

"I would never expect you to understand," Stiles interjected, words dripping with anger. He squeezed the hand still clenched in his tight enough that Derek was sure a human hand would break under the pressure. "What we are doing is because of love, and friendship, and justice. Those are all concepts that I doubt you could ever understand."

"Don't you dare!" Gerard spat, his placating smile turning to a ferocious glare instantly, "Don't you dare say I don't understand. Your kind, you…monsters…you took everything I love from me. My family, my friends, my world was destroyed by you, and others like you. True _justice_ is on my side!"

"You're wrong," Scott said again, even more quietly. Were it not for the commanding tone laced underneath, it might have been ignored altogether. "What Kate did to Derek and his family, that wasn't justice. What you and Victoria did to Derek's pack and my pack…we didn't deserve that. Somewhere along the way you lost sight of the Code that you claimed to live by. Allison understood that. So did Chris. I'm sorry that you never could. I don't want to fight you Gerard. Enough people have gotten hurt already. But I will if I have to."

"Scott," Ethan whispered, drawing their alpha's attention to the Kanima that had slowly and silently wended its way along the fence to the shrubs on their right and was now gazing intently at them. Gerard smirked at the exchange, glancing towards the creature as well.

"Ah yes," Gerard said, relaxing his posture and returning to a self-assured smirk. "Do you like my pet? What was left of young Matt Daehler is now gone completely, consumed by the power of the kanima. And without the limitations of a human will, the creature that remains is much more powerful…and deadly." He ended with a laugh as the kanima in question began to stalk forward towards the group.

"I do hope you survive, Scott," he added as an afterthought, eyes roving over the various pack members before returning to bear down on their alpha. Gerard laughed again, allowing his eyes to glow alpha red briefly before winking at their gasps and outbursts. "The time for our battle will come soon enough."

"What…the Hell…was that?" Stiles exclaimed as Gerard turned around and took off running.

"Gerard's…an alpha?" Derek asked, incredulous.

"How is that even possible?" Hayden asked.

"Quick, before he gets away," Braeden called out, drawing her gun to fire.

"Look out!" Isaac shouted as Kanima Matt lunged directly at them with a ferocious hiss, causing the group to scatter.

"Don't let its venom touch you," Scott cried out as he quickly shifted and darted forward.

"I got this," Jackson said, shifting to his own hybrid kanima form and jumping in front of his alpha to stand directly in front of the reptilian creature. Kanima Matt (Kanimatt, as Stiles had called it when jumping out of the way) dropped down low to the ground, crouched and ready to strike, eyes drifting across the various wolves and others slowly spreading out to trap it in a circle. It seemed to hesitate for just a moment before lunging to the left, directly at Braeden. She drew her gun and fired, but the beast was too quick, dodging the bullet and barreling into her, knocking her to the ground.

"Come on, you coward, your fight is with me," Jackson shouted, chasing after it and knocking it off of the woman before it could strike. By this point everyone else in the group had shifted into their beta wolf forms (wolf/coyote for Theo, demon for Stiles), but they were held back by Scott.

"No," he called out, "if we all attack at once, we'll just end up hurting one another." Ethan ignored the order, racing after the two reptilian beasts while the rest kept close tabs on them, ready to join in if needed.

The kanima and kanima/wolf were both incredibly fast and light on their feet, chasing after one another and dripping venom everywhere. Matt was incredibly nimble, contorting his body in all sorts of ways to avoid the vicious swipes of claws from Jackson and Ethan. Jackson, while not quite as nimble, packed a greater amount of strength, which he was using to great effect to drive the kanima back further, towards the fence. Jackson and Ethan soon fell into step with one another, Ethan jumping forward to claw at the kanima before falling back and letting Jackson meet the counterblow head on. The others followed along, keeping an ever-tightening circle around the three dueling creatures, careful to avoid the flying paralytic toxins. Kanima Matt was beginning to lose his footing and being backed into a corner when they all heard it.

"Quick! The roars are coming from this direction. It sounds like some creatures are battling one another!"

"Hunters," Hayden gasped, turning with the rest of the group to look in the direction the voice had come from.

"We're about to have company," Demon-Stiles added, spreading his wings to hover slightly above the group for a better vantage point. "There's at least a dozen, and it looks like even more are off in the distance."

"Should we fight them?" Aiden asked, turning to Scott as he did so.

"Only if we have to," Scott replied, turning to watch the battle still raging uninterrupted in the middle of the group. "We need to get out of here before they see us."

"Too late," Theo shouted as a wave of hunters ran over the crest of the nearby hill, shouting at the group below.

"What should we do?" Isaac called out, eyes widening nervously at the numbers of men and women racing towards them.

"Stay together, don't let them separate us," Scott shouted, racing to the front of the pack, claws extended and eyes glowing bright red. He was soon joined by Derek and Demon-Stiles, both of whom glanced briefly at their alpha with a look of determination. "Stiles, I want you to stay in the air," Scott continued, never stopping as he ran to meet the attack head on, "keep an eye on everyone, intervene if someone needs it but mostly just make sure nobody gets left behind or taken away."

"You got it, Scotty," Demon-Stiles replied before unfurling his wings and quickly ascending high above their heads.

"Aiden, you help Ethan and Jackson. Everyone else, protect each other, and try not to hurt the hunters too badly," Scott finished with a punch to the face of the first of their attackers to make it to the field they occupied.

"I'm not making any promises," Braeden shouted back, taking aim and firing at the closest hunter, causing him to howl in pain as the bullet lodged in his shoulder.

The lacrosse field was soon nothing but utter chaos and pandemonium. Reinforcements for the initial wave of hunters soon arrived, approaching from the school itself and trapping the Pack in the middle. Isaac, Derek, and Hayden fought that group while Scott, Theo, and Braeden took on the first. Ethan, Aiden, and Jackson remained deadlocked in battle with Matt the kanima, whose stamina seemed limitless. The creature continued dodging their attacks and countering with its own vicious, venomous strikes which the others narrowly avoided. Stiles watched from above, occasionally swooping low to launch a surprise attack on the hunters before disappearing above them in the dimly lit sky. The hunters came armed with guns, stun-batons, bows and arrows, and many of the other various weapons they had used in life, which they put to use to great effect. Shouts and cries and groans echoed across the field as some of the hunters fell in battle and some of the Pack came under fire. The one thing working in their favor was the absence of wolfsbane and other harmful substances; the hunters apparently didn't have any, for the moment at any rate, and so the Pack were able to heal the injuries they sustained with relative speed. 

Finally, Jackson was able to land a devastating blow on Kanima Matt, his claws sinking into the reptilian flesh right above its heart. The creature screamed in pain, wrenching its body away from the attack and scurrying to retreat towards the fence. It let out a horrid sound, a cross between a hiss and a roar, before darting up the fence, into the grandstands, and out of sight.

"Should we follow it?" Ethan asked, breathing heavily as he clutched a bleeding scratch in his side.

'No, let's help the others," Aiden replied, immediately moving to drape his twin's arm over his shoulder in support. Jackson didn't respond at first, eyes staring off in the distance to where the kanima had disappeared.

"Jacks?" Ethan asked, quiet and uncertain. Jackson remained silent and unblinking for another moment or two before finally shaking his head slightly and breaking his reverie.

"Yeah, we should help the others," he said, turning to give a half-smile/half-grimace towards his mate. "You guys go help Derek and them, I'll go join Scott." The three broke apart at once, not wasting any more time in rushing to the aid of their friends. Demon-Stiles landed with a thud and a roar next to Scott just as Jackson arrived to join the battle.

"We need to get everyone out of here Scott," Demon-Stiles called out as he punched a hunter in the face, knocking him to the ground, unconscious. "I saw more hunters on the way from the town."

"We can take them!" Theo cried as he plowed his way through three more hunters, grinning in satisfaction as they all fell to the ground.

"Probably," Demon-Stiles retorted with a nod of his head, "but we're wasting time. This feels more and more like a distraction, a way to just keep us busy, than an actual battle. And I don't want to stick around and find out why the hunters would want to distract us."

"He's right," Scott continued, coming to a stop and surveying the field around them now soaked in blood and dotted with unconscious bodies. "This isn't helping us find our friends. We need to get out of here and away from the hunters."

"So, what do you suggest?" Jackson asked, walking over to join their huddle during the brief lull in the battle.

"If you can get everyone together and around the side of the school, head towards the residential section on the west side of town," Demon-Stiles said, turning to Scott as he spoke. "We've worn them down enough that I can hold the rest of them here while you all get out, then I'll fly over and join you."

"I don't like that idea, Stiles. What if you get hurt, or caught?" Scott asked, solemnly.

"They're just hunters, Scott, in demon form there isn't much they can do to hurt me," the Demon/Druid scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest haughtily.

"I think he's right, Scott," Braeden interjected before the wolf could reply, taking aim to fire at another hunter as she spoke. "Stiles can handle himself long enough for us to get clear before the next wave of these fools arrives." She kicked at an unconscious hunter on the ground at her feet before stooping down to take his gun and ammunition for herself.

"Alright, I still don't like it, but I trust your judgment. Be safe," Scott finally relented, placing a hand on the demon's shoulder before turning towards the other side of the field. "Jackson, Braeden, Theo…you guys start heading towards the back entrance of the school. I'll go get the others and meet you there." They took off without a word, incapacitating a few more hunters along the way. Demon-Stiles roared ominously, taking off into the air but remaining low to the ground to swoop towards the largest remaining group of hunters on their side of the field.

With the aid of their Alpha, the other half of the Pack were soon able to break free from the hunters, charging after Scott towards the school. The hunters shouted after them, but were quickly pounced upon by the demon of the group and unable to track where the Pack disappeared to. Scott silently and cautiously led his friends around the edge of the school, past the parking lot, and down a deserted side street, scenting the air for leads with his ears attuned to the sounds of pounding footsteps coming from all directions. They stayed close to the houses, avoiding the open street in favor of darting from building to building in the hopes of remaining unseen.

Soon the sounds of the battle on the lacrosse field faded before finally ceasing altogether. A couple of minutes later, Demon-Stiles swooped down to join them, landing a little harder than intended before transitioning back to a worn and weary human Stiles. Derek raced to his side to wrap his arm around the young man's waist, letting him rest his weight against him and blushing slightly at the grateful look he received in return.

"Are you ok?" Scott asked, searching his friend intently for injuries. Stiles waved him off lightly before replying.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders to ease some of the tension. "Those stun-batons pack a harder punch than I was expecting, but other than that they didn't do anything to hurt me. Most of them are now taking a nice little nap, and the rest are too preoccupied to have figured out where you all went, for now anyway."

"Good, thanks for covering us like that Stiles," Scott said, clapping his hand to his friend's shoulder before turning to lead the way again. "Now, I've caught Malia's scent. It's coming from that direction," he continued, pointing down a familiar street that led to the outskirts of town.

"Her family's old house should be that way," Theo observed, cautiously, "it would make sense, I suppose, that she would be there."

"That's what I was thinking too," Scott replied as they set off down the road, still skirting along the edges to avoid being seen. "But there's just one problem. She's not alone."

"The Desert Wolf," Derek whispered, lifting his head slightly in concentration to scent the air as well. "She's apparently regained her werecoyote powers."

"Good, I still owe her a little something after all that time I spent chasing her down," Braeden said, cocking her gun once more and checking that it was still in working order before holstering it and turning to Scott.

"First things first, we have to get Malia," Scott replied, the look in his eyes making it clear that there would be no arguing about it. The group fell silent, following along as they all kept their eyes and ears open for warnings of nearby hunters, only to soon latch on to the fierce battle between mother and daughter taking place in the house on the edge of the preserve.

-o-

Corey, Mason, and Nolan walked slowly and cautiously along the edge of the forest, remaining hidden by Corey's camouflaging abilities. They knew they would have to uncloak themselves long enough to get across the fence, so they searched for a place to do so safely. The newly constructed fence straddled the line of trees closely, so thankfully it did not take long for the boys to find a section secluded and hidden well enough for them to cross without being seen.

"This is definitely mountain ash," Mason observed, tracing his free hand across the surface of the fence post. "Fresh mountain ash at that, with wolfsbane coated on top of it. There's no way any of the wolves would be able to get through."

"Should we break it down?" Nolan asked thoughtfully as he gazed around their copse of trees. "It wouldn't be that difficult to misalign one of the beams enough to make the barrier useless. We could make it look like a tree limb fell and knocked it loose."

"Wouldn't that still just make Monroe and her hunters more suspicious?" Corey asked, glancing around much more nervously. "They might make the fence even stronger, or increase their patrols some more."

"I agree with both of you," Mason added. "We _will_ need to make a gap in the fence when it comes time for the Pack to enter the city, but for now we are probably better off leaving everything as it is so we don't bring any unnecessary attention to ourselves."

"That's fair," Nolan replied, shrugging his shoulders and turning to the partially hidden section of fence. After another cautious look around the area, he let go of Corey's hand and quickly scrambled across, dropping lightly to the other side and remaining hidden in a bush. Corey and Mason quickly followed after him and, rejoining hands, the trio plunged back into camouflage, the world tinged green once again.

They were still about half a mile from the outskirts of town, so they trundled through the field of knee-high grass as quietly as possible, making slow progress as they worked to obscure their tracks behind them as they went along. Finally, they reached the houses on the edge of town and slowly made their way through an open backyard and out onto the street in front. The houses seemed quiet and deserted, giving the town an almost abandoned feel.

"I don't like this. Where is everybody?" Corey asked quietly.

"I don't know. It's definitely odd," Mason answered in a whisper, eyes roaming across the nearby homes. Children's toys and workmen's tools littered the yards as though recently used, and yet the grass remained unkempt, as though no one had mowed in weeks.

"Let's just keep moving," Nolan added, hands trembling slightly as he took in the sight. "Maybe we'll find a clue closer to the center of town."

The trio journeyed on, ambling through the almost deserted suburb slowly and with trepidation. Eventually, they reached a handful of homes that were still inhabited, evidence of the occupants becoming more commonplace. Occasionally they caught the sound of a tv program or the smell of someone cooking. It would almost seem normal, except for the almost oppressive silence. It was as though everyone still in town refused to speak, living their lives in fear of being seen or heard. It was unnerving, and the three friends were all too glad to finally make it out of the depressing residential section and to the downtown commercial center.

What they found there, though, was no more reassuring. Many of the businesses were now closed, either boarded up or abandoned. Broken windows and the remnants of looting lined the streets as far as they could see. Plastered over walls, doors, and windows were various signs and posters, all of them antagonistic. Many of the remaining operational businesses bore placards announcing "no creatures allowed," "we only serve humans," "the natural way is the right way," and "this business protected by mountain ash and wolfsbane bullets." In other places were older "wanted" posters, showing pictures and names of various supernatural creatures and the bounties placed on their heads. A few even bore the names of their Packmates, though they each had a giant red X spray painted over top of them. Finally, there were also several "Elect Tamora Monroe" and "Monroe for Mayor" posters and fliers dotted along the way, promising a safer, creature-free community for the humans. For the three boys wandering down the streets, the town had never seemed so depressing, their home had never felt so unwelcoming.

"I can't believe I ever bought into all of this junk," Nolan exclaimed in disdain as he caught sight of a particularly gruesome poster bearing the picture of a hunter holding the decapitated head of a werewolf. "How can all of these people believe the lies and hatred Monroe has been feeding them?"

"They're afraid," Mason replied cautiously. "We all saw what fear does to people when the Anuk-Ite was here. Unfortunately, it seems not all of the fear was caused by that creature. It just took what was already here and amplified it."

"You're probably right," Corey said, glancing around almost fearfully himself. "But I have to admit, this is looking more and more like a lost cause to me."

"What do you mean?" Mason asked, gripping his boyfriend's hand in comfort.

"It's just, it was bad enough before when we were talking about trying to defeat Monroe and her hunters," Corey answered, gesticulating around them with their joined hands as he did so. "I mean, she defeated us; she killed us. But I could see how, if we had the whole Pack together, we might stand a chance. But now…what are we supposed to do about all this? Fight off the whole entire town? Wipe them all out and start over?"

"You're right," Nolan said, thoughtfully. "We can't rely on the idea that taking out Monroe will end this conflict. Obviously her prejudice and hatred has spread too far. We'll have to figure out ways to show the rest of the town that the supernatural world is not something to be feared, that Monroe was wrong and the Pack is not their enemy."

"And how exactly are we supposed to do that?" Corey asked, voice laced with sarcasm.

"I'm not sure…yet," Nolan contemplatively replied. "But we have time before the rest of the Pack gets here. We'll brainstorm ideas while we wait for their arrival. At least now we have a better understanding of what we're up against and what we will have to do."

"Hey guys, do you hear that?" Mason interjected, ending the debate that was sure to continue otherwise. The three fell silent, listening to the sounds of a cheering crowd off in the distance.

"At least someone is happy," Corey muttered, turning in the direction the voices were coming from.

"Let's go check it out," Mason said, tugging on his boyfriend's hand lightly and urging him to follow. The chimera breathed out a dramatic sigh before following along, Nolan quickly moving to join them. Following the sound of the cheering crowd proved easy, and the trio soon found themselves on the outskirts of the town square.

Gathered together in front of the sheriff's station were hundreds, possibly even thousands, of people, all centered on a brightly lit platform constructed in the station parking lot. A woman stepped up on the platform, gesturing with her hand for the crowd to settle down as she grabbed a microphone and smiled broadly at the people. "My friends…rightful, _human,_ citizens of Beacon Hills…thank you for coming here today," Tamora Monroe called out, voice carrying over the crowd through the sound system. "We face a new threat…"

-o-

The group continued forward down the street at a steady pace, eyes and ears still wide open and alert for any signs of danger. As they approached the old Tate house, the sounds of mother and daughter locked in fierce battle drifted on the still air easily, the two hurling insults and promises of retribution at one another.

"I'll give them credit, they're both giving it their all," Theo commented, quickly going quiet again at the stern look he received from Scott in response.

"We need to make sure we get Malia out safely," Scott said, turning to the rest of the Pack. "I think the best way to do that is going to be to try to catch Corinne by surprise. Even with her powers back, if we're quiet she might not realize we are here until its too late since she's so focused on the fight. Derek, Braeden, Isaac, Theo – you four go in through the front door. Ethan, Aiden, Jackson, Hayden – you guys take the back. Stiles, can you fly the two of us up to that open window on the second floor?"

"Of course," Stiles replied, eyes glinting with amusement.

"Good," Scott continued. "Everyone, stay as quiet as possible, and don't do anything unless the Desert Wolf attacks you or you hear my signal. Ready? Let's go!" The two groups Scott designated quickly and silently moved into position, soon gathering at the two entrances to the house.

"Ready, bud?" Stiles asked as he transformed back into demon form once more.

"Yeah, let's go get her back," Scott replied, a faraway look in his eyes. Stiles didn't say anything in response, choosing instead to grab hold of Scott's hand and lift them gently into the air. He flew towards the window in question, easing Scott in first and then landing precariously on the sill in order to transform back into human form and scramble through himself. They could hear the sounds of grunts, snarls, screams, and shattering glass coming from the floor below them as they crept through the room and out into the hall. Scott could also make out the sounds of eight other people slowly entering the house, but it did not seem to faze the two women locked in combat.

Scott and Stiles found the staircase and slowly made their way down it, cringing every time one of the old floorboards made a creaking sound.

"Who's there?" Malia called out suddenly, causing ten different people scattered throughout the house to grimace.

"What's the matter, Malia, finally realize you're no match for me? Had to call in your little friends for backup?" Corinne taunted from the kitchen.

Malia growled angrily in response. "Scott, stay back! I can handle this myself." From his position at the bottom of the stairs, Scott could hear as Malia transformed into her full coyote form, snarling viciously as she lunged across the kitchen to attack her mother. The Desert Wolf was unfazed by the attack, getting off a couple of shotgun blasts aimed at the werecoyote before throwing the gun itself at her and darting out of the way. Corinne remained in beta form, swiping her claws at her daughter in defense.

"Stay out of this!" Corinne shouted towards the entrance to the kitchen, obviously smelling or hearing the presence of the alpha wolf there. "We're having such a lovely mother/daughter bonding moment, I'd hate to have to end it…permanently."

Scott peered through the gap in the door, watching as Malia launched herself in another assault against her mother, leaping over the countertop to sink her teeth into the older woman's arm. The Desert Wolf cried out in pain before whipping her arm back fiercely and slamming the coyote into the nearby cabinets, shocking her enough to force her to let go and drop to the floor.

"Argh, you little monster," Corinne exclaimed, aiming a kick at the coyote's snout in anger. "You have no idea how much I hate you!" Malia responded by jumping out of the way of the kick, growling with her teeth bared, and then lunging again at the woman, only to be cut off by a chair crashing down on top of her. The Desert Wolf used the moment of pain and confusion to race out of the door on the opposite side of the kitchen, leading into the dining room, and straight into the waiting barrel of Braeden's pistol.

"Did you miss me?" Braeden asked as she fired several shots off in a row, the bullets lodging in Corinne's chest and neck.

"You?" Corinne spluttered, staggering back through the doorway, clutching at her bleeding wounds as she collapsed to the floor.

"I should have done this years ago," Braeden added, switching to the shotgun slung across her back.

"No Braeden, wait!" Scott shouted from the other side of the kitchen as he crashed through the door. But he was too late. Braeden's shot met Corinne's face with deadly accuracy, and a moment later the woman's body had faded from existence, as though she had never even been there. The remaining pack members stumbled into the kitchen to watch the intense stare-down between the Alpha and the Marshall. "We can't just go around killing people!"

"Look around you, Scott!" Braeden retorted. "We're dead. They're dead. Your black and white rules barely worked in the real world, and they sure as Hell don't work here. The Desert Wolf would have killed every last one of us if she was given the chance. Taking her out of the picture was the only way to make sure she didn't follow us or try to stop us."

"But that wasn't your choice to make," Scott countered. "Besides, we're only going to be here for a few more days anyway. What difference would it have made if we had left her here? We never would have seen her again. You had already injured her enough to slow her down. She wasn't a threat anymore."

"You don't know her like I do. As long as she was still breathing, she was a threat," Braeden said, her voice going deadly cold.

"For what its worth," Malia added, having changed back into human form and shamelessly walking naked through the middle of the kitchen to retrieve her clothes, much to the horror/interest of several of the Pack members present, "I agree with Braeden. I was going to kill her too, I just hadn't gotten the chance yet. Just like she was trying to kill me."

"That doesn't make it ok," Scott grumbled, turning to storm out of the room, and then out of the house, his friends trailing after him with a mixture of confusion, concern, and frustration.

"Scott," Derek said, finally catching up with the alpha near the tree line and the path that would lead into the Preserve, "I get why this upsets you, I do, but can you stop for just a moment and think about it?"

"Think about what?" Scott asked, turning slowly to meet the former alpha's gaze.

"Braeden's right. We can't play by the same rules here in Limbo that we would have in the real world. It just won't work. I'm not saying we should just kill anyone who gets in our way, but we have to be willing to make certain sacrifices if we're going to get through this with all of our Pack members together again," Derek replied.

"I just…what does that mean for us? If we compromise now, on this, what else will we compromise on? What other lines will we cross? All of us who died, we've already changed so much. Can you really live with yourself in the real world knowing that we've given up all of our morals too?" Scott retorted, eyes fierce and arms crossed.

"Scott," Stiles interjected, stepping forward from the gathered crowd around them. "Scott, don't do this again. Please?" Stiles looked pleadingly at his best friend while Theo shifted uncomfortably directly behind him.

"But Stiles," Scott said, stepping forward to meet his friend with his own pleading look, "where does it end? How do we know that, if we let this go, we won't let other things go that shouldn't be? What would even give us the right to still make that judgment, if all we're going to be is a bunch of hypocrites about it here, when it suits us?"

"I trust you, remember," Stiles implored, grabbing his friend's hand tightly as he spoke. "Your best will be enough. I know you won't let that happen, to any of us."

"How can you be so sure?" Scott asked, face a wide array of emotions all at once.

"Because you're Scott McCall, my best friend…my brother. I know you, and I know you will make sure this Pack does the right thing," Stiles said with a grin before becoming serious again. "But I think Derek, Braeden, and Malia are right. Maybe the Desert Wolf wouldn't have come after us; maybe she would have taken too long to recover and everyone would be sent back to life before she could catch up to us. But, as callous as it sounds, that's not a risk we can afford to take right now. And, if its any consolation, moving on from this world is not the same as being killed in the world of the living. The Desert Wolf didn't _die,_ she went to whatever the next stage of the afterlife is."

"That's not really much of a consolation," Scott murmured, pulling away from his friend and gazing thoughtfully out into the forest. "But ok."

"Ok?" Stiles asked, quizzically.

"I still don't like it," Scott said, turning back around to gaze harshly at each of his Packmates, lingering particularly on Braeden. "We're not killers. We fight _against_ the kind of people who just slaughter anyone who gets in their way. But I understand the…extenuating circumstances here, and I'll forgive this for the sake of keeping us moving on our mission. But that doesn't change the rules. From now on, we don't kill, or send people to the next stage of the afterlife, or whatever, unless there is _absolutely_ no other choice. Agreed?" All of the various Packmates nodded their heads or mumbled their assent; even Braeden, though she was the last to do so.

"Alright, so now that that is settled, is anyone gonna actually tell me what's going on here?" Malia interjected, breaking the silence that had descended on them all.

"Well Malia, let me say…" Stiles began.

"Welcome to Hell!" he finished, joined by Isaac, Jackson, Ethan, and Aiden. Derek groaned, shaking his head while Scott, Theo, and Hayden laughed in amusement. Then they all began telling the story once more of the adventures the Pack had had in Limbo and their mission to retrieve their missing friends and send them back to the world of the living. Malia took it all in stride, completely unfazed by the absurdity of the story and willingly joining in.


	27. The Sheriff of This Town

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed/favorited this story recently! I hope you all continue to enjoy the twists and turns that lie ahead. Let me know!

Chapter 27: The Sheriff of This Town

"So, are we going to just ignore the fact that Gerard popped out of nowhere and flashed alpha eyes at us?" Theo asked. The Pack (now consisting of 11 members) had gathered together in the Tate family living room, lumped together on the couch and chairs or settled on the floor. It had taken awhile to get Malia caught up to speed since so much had happened since her untimely death in the real world and the subsequent craziness of the last few days trying to find and revive their lost friends.

"Wait, Gerard did what now?" Malia asked, turning to give a hard glare at the chimera.

"We all saw it," Theo answered, turning to Scott for help.

"Yeah, we did," Scott added, thoughtfully. "I only briefly caught his scent before he disappeared, but it had changed too. He's definitely a werewolf now, and apparently an alpha at that."

"How is that even possible? Why, after all the hatred and murder and mayhem, would _Gerard_ become a werewolf?" Isaac asked, shaking slightly as he did so.

"It's official, the old man has finally lost what little sanity he had remaining," Stiles replied with a nod of his head. "The more important question we have to ask is: what is he planning to do?"

"I agree," Ethan interjected, "He mentioned something about our battle happening soon. Obviously, he's up to something. Again." He sighed in frustration while his brother growled under his breath. The older twin reached over to place a comforting hand on Aiden's shoulder, placating him.

"As much as I hate to say it," Stiles continued, an almost pained expression on his face, "we probably can't keep ignoring all the things going on down here. The pixies, the demons, the Dread Doctors, the demon/druid magic tunnels, Gerard…we're drawing a lot of attention and, while we still have to make finding and resurrecting our friends our top priority, it might not be all that wise to completely disregard everything else. Otherwise, who knows what kind of mess will be left after we are done."

"So, what are you suggesting? That we take them all on, fight every enemy we encounter until we send them all to the next world?" Braeden asked sarcastically from her spot at the table where she was cleaning and inspecting the various weapons she had accumulated.

"I'm good with that plan," Malia said, her eyes glowing blue as she released her claws and growled softly.

"Are we strong enough to do that?" Hayden asked, far more composed and thoughtful.

"We will be, once we get the rest of the pack," Jackson quickly replied.

"But are you sure that's enough? None of these guys are exactly push-overs, and trying to take them all on would be…difficult," Aiden said, leaning forward to look past his brother and stare at the man sitting next to him. Jackson gulped slightly, sinking backwards into the couch.

"This debate is getting us nowhere," Derek snapped, his hands massaging his temples to try and ease the headache that had started to form. The others quieted down instantly, all staring at the older wolf with concern or fear.

"Derek's right," Scott finally said, once the wolf next to him had stopped frowning in pain. "I don't really like the idea of leaving behind a big huge mess. And it could end up coming back to haunt us when we eventually die of old age or whatnot. But we've already started sending our friends and packmates back to life, and we can't give up now or get sidetracked when we only have a limited amount of time. Arguing about it isn't going to solve anything. If Gerard or the Dread Doctors or whoever else shows up and tries to slow us down or stop us, then we'll do what we have to. But otherwise, we need to focus on finding our friends."

"I wonder if my dad is here," Stiles said, staring out the window with a pensive look on his face.

"What?" Scott asked, taken aback by the non sequitur.

"We need to get back to our search," Stiles replied with a shrug, turning to face his friend. "When we first got here, to Limbo Hills, you said that you could smell several of our packmates were here. I was wondering if my dad is one of them."

"I…I don't know," Scott said, now becoming thoughtful himself. "It's possible. I could smell the Pack, but the scent was coming from several directions and mixed with everything else, so I couldn't tell who, specifically, is here. It's worth going to look and see though."

"I think Deaton's around town somewhere too," Malia added. "I caught his scent awhile back, before the Desert Wolf attacked me."

"So, it's settled then, we'll keep looking for our Pack, but we will also fight whatever battles we need to in order to keep this world safe as well. _And,_ we do all of that without sending people to the next world unless we absolutely have to. Agreed?" Scott finished, looking at each of his friends in turn. They all nodded, solemnly. "Good, then let's go."

The Pack filed out of Malia's old house cautiously, all senses trained acutely on the world around them for hints of who was in this version of Beacon Hills. They were still close enough to the school for the werecreatures to be able to hear the distant shouts of the hunters they had encountered earlier, but they were all far enough away to not pose any immediate threat. The group ambled slowly through the deserted streets of this alternate version of the town they once called home, really taking it in for the first time since their arrival. Limbo Beacon Hills was an almost perfect match for the city's real-world counterpart, except for the fact that the residents all seemed to have disappeared. The houses were there, but each one they passed was empty. The streets were there, but they were devoid of any vehicles careening by. It gave an eerie feeling to the already slightly paranoid group of wolves, humans, and hybrids. They huddled close together, eyes darting about furtively for signs of life or danger.

Their path led them from the outskirts of town into one of the once-bustling suburbs near the preserve and past the house Scott had once called home. He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes alighted upon it, his gaze both longing and terrified. Though it had been more than a year since the real version of the house was burned to the ground, with him almost perishing along with it, it still immediately felt like home, and a large part of him wanted nothing more than to scramble inside and collapse on his bed. Derek caught the expression on Scott's face and instantly understood what the younger man was feeling. Wordlessly, he simply grabbed his friend's arm and tugged, pulling him out of his memories and back along the road. Scott nodded his thanks briefly before shaking his head to clear it and continue forward.

They journeyed on in relative silence, depressed by their surroundings. The more they saw of this town, the less it actually felt like home. Stiles made a comment about the true Beacon Hills being its people far more than its buildings and streets and so on, which the others readily agreed with. They remained cautious as they continued through what was once the more populated parts of town. They could still hear the scurrying and shouting of the hunters. It seemed they had overrun the town and turned it into their base of operations, using the houses closer to the center of the city as their own personal homes. It made werewolf Gerard and the Kanima's appearance here all the more suspect, but, though the group tossed out several theories and ideas, none of them could really figure out what was actually going on.

As they turned down the side street that would lead to the Stilinski house, Scott suddenly shouted, "Look out!" They all raced into a nearby empty house as a large demon flew directly above their heads with a terrifying screech.

"Do you think it saw us?" Isaac asked, peering out of the window cautiously to watch.

"I don't know," Stiles replied from right next to him, also watching out the window. "If it did, it doesn't seem to care enough about us to come down here."

"What if its going to get reinforcements?" Theo asked, peeking around a corner he had chosen to hide in.

"Well, Derek and I managed to kill one demon, just the two of us," Stiles said with a shrug, turning back to the group. "I'm sure that, together, we could handle a few more."

"I'd rather not have to put that theory to the test though," Jackson muttered under his breath, though it was still heard by most of the people present.

"Yeah, I'm with Jackson on this one," Scott said, almost surprised to be uttering those words. "Let's try to avoid fighting a bunch of demons if we can."

"Hmm," Stiles murmured, turning back to the window. "We should be close enough to my house by now, can you smell anything?"

"No," Scott replied, wincing at the downcast expression he received in response. "At least, not the sheriff. I thought I noticed Boyd's scent earlier, when we were closer to town, but it went away almost as soon as I caught it."

"Hmm," was Stiles' only reply once again as he lost himself in thought.

"It's weird though," Ethan interjected, causing a few eyes to turn towards him. "Its not just that I can't smell any _one_ in Stiles house. It's like the whole entire house doesn't even exist, scent-wise."

"You're right," Aiden added, moving to stand next to his twin. "From here we should at least be able to pick up something from that house, just like we caught McCall's scent when we passed his house. But there's absolutely nothing."

"I don't like this. It feels like a trap, or a set-up," Braeden said, fingers twitching around her holster.

"I have to know," Stiles replied resolutely, thoughtful expression immediately replaced by one of determination. "I can't be this close and not check to see if my dad is here."

"We're with you Stiles," Scott said softly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. The two shared a look, something passing between the two of them before Stiles nodded.

"Let's go then," he said, leading the way out the door, the rest quickly trailing after him. Stiles practically marched straight to his front door, not bothering to wait or look around. The others called out for him to slow down or be careful, but he ignored them in favor of reaching his destination. He climbed the steps to his porch, stopping before his front door, both indecision and determination written across his face. He stared at it critically, examining the door though he didn't know what for.

"You ok?" Scott asked, having caught up with his best friend and joining him on the porch. Stiles' forehead crinkled slightly in confusion.

"There's something off here. I can't tell what, just…something. I'm not sure we should go in," he replied, tapping the door with a tentative finger.

"But you said it yourself, we can't _not_ check after we've come all this way," Scott said, turning to examine the door himself for clues. The rest of the Pack had gathered with them by this point, all still confused by the house's lack of scent and concerned by Stiles' added pronouncement.

"Alright," Stiles finally said, straightening up and reaching out to turn the doorknob. "But if this doesn't go well, I'm blaming you buddy!" He didn't wait for a reply, instead turning the knob and stepping into the room beyond.

"What the…" someone called out from behind him suddenly.

"Not again!" Stiles shouted, just before the world around them went spiraling out of control.

-o-

"We face a new threat," Tamora Monroe's voice called out, echoing across the town square. The crowd gathered around her makeshift stage grew silent almost instantly, the people hanging on her every word.

"It looks like they're still doing your little healing test," Corey whispered to Nolan with just a touch of bitterness, gesturing with their joined fingers at the identical bandages on the hands of the people nearest them. Nolan grimaced at the sight, shaking his head in frustration.

"I _am_ sorry about that, by the way," he replied quietly, turning towards Corey. "I was stupid, and wrong, and in way over my head, and…"

"Guys, be quiet, I can't hear what Monroe is saying," Mason whispered harshly at the two of them, stepping closer to the crowd and pulling the others with him.

"Sorry," Nolan said, to both Mason and Corey, casting his eyes at the ground and slumping his shoulders. Corey watched the younger teen closely for a moment or two while Mason half-dragged them along the side of a nearby shop.

"We have done great work these last two years," Monroe continued, practically beaming in the spotlight. "Thanks to you, we have successfully driven the supernatural out of Beacon Hills. Our homes, our lives, are safer, because of the hard work and dedication of the human citizens of this great city." Her words were met with thunderous applause and cheers from the hundreds of people gathered around. The only people not clapping were the three boys hidden along the edge of the square.

"Thank you…for apologizing," Corey whispered to the distraught boy next to him. "I'm glad you're on our side now." Nolan perked up at that, a small, tentative smile on his face. Corey gave a quick smile of his own before turning his attention back to the rally in front of them as Monroe gestured for silence once more.

"Yes, yes, we should be proud of what we have managed to accomplish," she half-shouted into her microphone. "But the work is not over. Our band of hunters, those brave men and women who tirelessly fight to defend our freedom, are stretched thin. One of our defensive outposts in the preserve was attacked two days ago, infiltrated by supernatural beings." She paused as a collective gasp echoed through the crowd. Mason and Corey shared a nervous glance with one another before quickly turning their attention back to Monroe.

"The creatures are mocking us, defying us. And I believe they will stop at nothing to destroy our way of life, to take away the safety and security we have worked so hard these past two years to build together." Her words were met with boos and hisses from the crowd, the anger almost palpable.

"We must stand together! We must continue to show these subhuman things that this world does not belong to them. It belongs to us!" Cheers and shouts went up from the crowd, practically deafening as Monroe beamed in triumph, a malicious gleam in her eyes. The three boys could only watch helplessly, taking in the enormity of the situation and the amount of support Monroe had, the sheer number of people who hated and feared them gathered all together.

"We are no longer the helpless, clueless humans these creatures thought we were," Monroe continued once the crowd had settled back down. "We _know_ now. We know what they are. We know how to defeat them, how to _defend_ ourselves against them. We proved to Scott McCall and his pack that we would not cower in the corner while they tried to take our town from us! We proved to Satomi Ito's pack and the Primal Pack that we would not be fooled by them pretending to be peaceful or separate! And we will prove, to whatever else is out there, that this is our city! This is our home! We are not afraid! And we…will…not…back…down!" Monroe shouted over the cheering and applause, the gathered crowd reaching fever pitch. "Who's with me?!"

"We are!" the people shouted, almost as one. Monroe smirked as she took in the praise and adulation being thrown her way for a few minutes before finally gesturing for silence once more.

"We must meet this new threat head on," she said, her voice deadly serious as she spoke into her microphone. "We face a new threat, one we don't yet know much about. But, thankfully, we have allies on our side who know how to handle these threats. We will face this one the same way we have faced the ones that came before it: with strength, with determination, and with _human_ ingenuity. Here to lead us through these tough times is our newly elected sheriff, Julien Argent!"

A blond, handsome young man stepped up to the front of the stage to the cheers and applause of the whole crowd. Nolan, Corey, and Mason stared at one another in horror, mouthing the word "Argent" silently, each too terrified and too surprised to speak out loud.

"Thank you, Mayor Monroe," the young man said with a slight French accent as he took the microphone and directed his attention towards the mass of people surrounding him. "And thank you, people of Beacon Hills, for choosing me to be your new sheriff!" The roar of applause was once again overwhelming, and it took a moment for the people to settle down enough for Sheriff Argent to continue.

"I won't lie to you," the Frenchman said seriously, his gaze steely and penetrating, "This fight will not be easy. My family has hunted werewolves for centuries. Our motto has always been, 'We hunt those who hunt us.' We didn't do it for fame, or fortune, or power. We did it to protect the world around us, to protect those who didn't know about the creatures of the night." He paused, glancing around at the crowd.

"I see now where we went wrong," he continued. "We kept the supernatural world a secret. We _helped_ those creatures remain anonymous, waiting until they took an innocent life or went out of control before intervening. If we had only been more decisive, and more honest with our neighbors, we could have spared so much innocent blood." Julien Argent paused again, his face a mask of regret and pain, the people around him hanging on his every word with bated breath. "That mistake cost my family greatly. My great-uncle Gerard, both of his children, his daughter-in-law, and his granddaughter were all slaughtered by these beasts. My mother, my father, and my grandfather all chose to take their own lives when they were bitten by creatures like the ones you've faced, rather than fail our family or become the very thing they had sworn to protect others from. I have lost so much at the hands of the supernatural world. And I know I am not alone. Many of you have lost loved ones also, victims of their brutal attacks, innocent people who got caught in the crossfire or brave warriors who fought and died to defend this city. We will let these creatures know, whoever they are, whatever they are, that those sacrifices were not in vain!"

Cheers erupted yet again, practically drowning out the sheriff as he continued to speak. "We will stand together! We will fight! We will hunt those who hunt us!" he shouted before the roar of the crowd became too much for even his amplified words to penetrate. The three camouflaged boys alone remained still, watching in horror as a city full of people vowed to fight them until their dying breath.

"This is bad," Mason whispered, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly in confusion.

"Really bad," Nolan agreed, pain and confusion etched across his features.

"We're doomed," Corey finished, swallowing nervously before throwing his head back with a sigh and smacking it against the wall behind them. "Just when I thought this couldn't get any worse."

-o-

The eleven pack members were all catapulted forward into the house. The first thing to hit all of the ones with supernatural senses was the smell. The air was stale and musty, as though the doors and windows had been sealed for years. Interlaced with the dust was the overwhelming smell of grief and pain, wafting off of the lone occupant of the house – Sheriff Stilinski.

The second thing they noticed (first in the case of Braeden and Stiles) was that, as soon as they crossed the threshold, none of them had bodies any longer. Each could feel themselves sort of floating in mid-air, but without arms or legs or any other corporeal features to control. They could sense, to a certain degree, the presence of their friends around them, but they could no longer see one another either.

" _What just happened?"_ Isaac tried to ask. Without a body, he had no way of physically saying the words, yet they somehow got across to the rest of the Pack anyway.

" _That was weird,"_ Jackson said.

" _Where'd my body go!"_ Theo exclaimed.

" _Can anyone hear me?"_ Aiden asked.

" _Argh, I hate this!"_ Malia shouted.

" _Not so loud, we can still hear you just fine,"_ Hayden replied.

" _This better not mean I just lost all my guns. Do you know how difficult it is to find those things in this world?"_ Braeden huffed.

" _Is that really all you care about?"_ Ethan growled in response.

" _Enough!"_ Derek shouted, silencing the rest of them before trying, and failing, to turn to where he thought Scott's consciousness was.

" _Stiles, what did you mean, 'not again?'"_ Scott asked, quietly.

" _The doorway was another one of those transformation tunnels,"_ he sighed out in response, _"like the one that almost turned us into mice. I felt the magic as soon as I opened the door, but it was too late to prevent it from taking hold."_

" _Can you undo it, like you did before?"_ Derek asked, cautiously.

" _I don't know,"_ Stiles answered, the tension in his voice practically tangible. _"I would need a body to be able to do the spell I did to break it last time."_

" _What about Ethan?"_ Aiden interjected.

" _What about him?" "What about me?!"_ Stiles and Ethan said simultaneously.

" _You and Noshiko said he was affected by one of these things too, when he was…de-aged. But that didn't need a spell to break it,"_ Aiden replied.

" _Connection,"_ Stiles whispered thoughtfully. _"Of course! Its stupidly cliché, but it makes sense. Connection, love, can break through these spells, just like our connections broke through the hold the demon magic had on Scott, Brett, Lori, and Jackson!"_

" _Ok, then can you just go on and break it already?"_ Malia grumbled.

" _I can't,"_ Stiles said, his tone changing from excitement to resignation. _"But I think my dad can."_

They all turned (as much as they could considering they were nothing but floating consciousnesses) towards the sound of the Sheriff coming from the kitchen. They looked around them for the first time, noticing that the house was not only stale and musty, but incredibly disheveled. Clothing, papers, and old food cartons lay strewn across the floor everywhere. Pictures either hung askew on the walls or lay shattered on the ground below. The place was dimly lit, oppressive, and depressing.

The group soon discovered that, by thinking about it, they could project themselves forward and around the room. They slowly made their way down the hall towards the kitchen, which was an even bigger disaster. Dirty dishes spilled out of the sink, having piled up until it could contain no more. A dried stain in the center of the room appeared to have been there for weeks, ignored. The remains of a chair that had been smashed were strewn about the room. And in the corner, hunched over the dining room table, sat the former sheriff of Beacon Hills, looking like a hollow shell of the man he had once been.

For the longest time he simply sat there as they all floated their way closer towards him. He had lost a substantial amount of weight, his clothes hanging off his thin frame. His hair was a mess and his face looked like it hadn't been shaved in weeks. Deep, dark circles surrounded both eyes, as though he hadn't slept in just as long, while his eyes themselves were red and swollen, the ghost of many fallen tears practically visible. In one hand the Sheriff held an almost empty bottle of whiskey, identical to the countless bottles surrounding him on the table, chairs, and floor. In the other hand he held a framed photograph. They each leaned in closer to see the picture contained the sheriff, his wife, and his son, all three beaming happily for the camera.

"Oh Claudia," the Sheriff cried out, his whole body wracked with sobs. "I miss you so much! You were my everything…my heart, my soul…How am I supposed to go on without you?" His words were next to impossible to discern, his voice laced with more grief than they could bear. His finger shakily traced around her figure in the picture before moving slowly to the image of his son.

"Stiles," he continued, voice as shaky as his hand, "how could you do it? How could you…take your own life…and leave me here…alone?" There was a collective gasp, the various Pack members a mixture of horror and confusion. The Sheriff didn't notice, however, continuing in his ramblings as though absolutely alone in his misery and pain. "We could have managed, kiddo…it would have been hard, but we could have…why did you leave? Why did you abandon me?" He collapsed completely, shoving the photograph away from himself and dropping the bottle of whiskey on the floor as he placed his head in his hands.

" _Dad? Dad! I didn't leave you, I'm right here!"_ Stiles exclaimed, floating down towards his father's form.

"Oh Stiles, I can still hear your voice, come back to haunt me…but I know you're gone!" the Sheriff cried out, his whole body shaking.

" _Dad, please, just listen. It's me, It's Stiles. I'm right here, please, just talk to me!"_ Stiles practically shouted. His father didn't respond at first, continuing to wail as he cried himself out, slowly recovering and drying his most recent bout of tears from his face.

"You gotta get ahold of yourself, Stilinski," the Sheriff said bitterly, rising from his chair on unsteady legs. "Dreaming that your dead son is talking to you. It's no wonder they fired you."

" _Dad, you're not dreaming, you're just…confused,"_ Stiles pleaded, keeping his floating consciousness directly in his father's line of sight. The sheriff frowned in confusion, squinting as though trying to make something out before shaking his head again and taking a few steps forward, towards the refrigerator.

"I just need a good drink, is all," Noah mumbled to himself, pulling a can of beer out and opening it, downing half its contents in one gulp.

" _Mom would have believed me,"_ Stiles said, unable to mask the hurt and pain in his own voice and echoing a conversation from long ago. The Sheriff whipped around suddenly, staring at the spot where the voice had come from. _"Dad?"_ Stiles queried, tentative, as his father stepped closer.

"You can't be here. You're dead," the older man replied, still shaking his head slightly, as though trying to clear it.

" _You're dead too,"_ Stiles answered, the shrug that would have accompanied it almost audible.

"Stiles, are you really here?" the man asked, the fear of the response evident in his tone.

" _Yeah dad, of course I'm here…I would never abandon you, you know that. I love you,"_ the younger man said, voice full of an array of emotions. For a long while the Sheriff didn't move, didn't speak, and the Pack around them practically held their breath in suspense.

Finally, Noah took a step forward, shouting one word, "Stiles!" before seemingly wrapping his arms fiercely around thin air. A moment later, however, the body of the sheriff's son faded back into visibility, arms wrapped just as tightly around his father.

"Dad!" Stiles cried out, tears streaming from his eyes as he buried his face in his father's shoulder, the older man mirroring his actions. As father and son hugged one another, ten other bodies slowly faded into visibility around the room as well, each of them breathing a sigh of relief as feeling returned to their limbs. They silently greeted one another, a few tentatively patting Stiles on the back before moving into the living room to give the Stilinski men some privacy for their long-awaited reunion.


	28. A Confluence of Events

**If You're Going Through Hell**

A/N: Hi everyone! This one took a while because there are so many things all beginning to converge together. It's also the longest chapter so far in the story; the first scene alone is almost as long as some of the shorter, earlier chapters. So, I hope it all still makes sense. I'll give a special shout out to Camille, who requested something awhile ago that I incorporated into the last scene of this chapter. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!

Chapter 28: A Confluence of Events

The two Stilinski's eventually pulled away from one another, each wiping tears from their eyes and taking a moment to compose themselves. Stiles looked around the kitchen briefly, noticing first the absence of the Pack and then second that the room had changed. The dust, dirt, and debris were gone, replaced by the near spotless state he had always strived to keep the house in. Murmuring drifted to them from the living room, so Stiles assumed that is where his friends had gathered.

"Stiles, what's going on?" his father finally asked, piercing him with his trademark glare.

"Dad, I don't even know where to begin," he laughed, stepping forward to wrap his arm around his father and leading him back to the dining room table so they could sit and talk. He took his time explaining, talking about everything that had happened in the living realm when the two had become separated, about hearing over the radio that his father had been killed while they were in hiding, then eventually being killed himself after losing so many of their friends. He told him about the crazy plan to bring everyone back to life, about the demon inside himself, about their successes in finding and saving several of their friends, and about his failures in losing Nolan and Noshiko. The Sheriff listened attentively, not daring to interrupt the lengthy diatribe. Finally, Stiles reached the present, with the Pack coming to the Stilinski house but getting caught in a demon/druid tunnel at the door and temporarily losing their bodies. "But what I don't understand," Stiles finished, "is why you thought I had committed suicide. That's an oddly specific thing for the magical influence to make you think."

"Really? In all of what you just said, _that's_ the thing that you don't understand?" the former sheriff chuckled, ruffling his son's hair affectionately as he did.

"Hey! It may be weird and crazy, but everything else does make sense!" Stiles retorted, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff, though he couldn't suppress the grin from his face, causing his father to shake his head at him with a laugh.

"Well," the elder Stilinski said thoughtfully after a moment, "I always say, 'three's a pattern.' You've now encountered three of these transformation tunnel…things. What have you learned from them?"

"Hmmm…" Stiles began, trailing off for a few minutes lost in thought. "All three of them occurred around people who were stuck in pain. The first time it was Isaac, reliving his dad's abuse. The second time it was Ethan, reliving his former pack's abuse. And this time it was…"

"Me reliving a nightmare I used to have," Noah finished.

"Wait, what?" Stiles interjected. "What do you mean, what nightmare?"

"Honestly, it started shortly after your mom died and you began having panic attacks," he grimaced, pained by the memory. "I was so afraid that I was going to lose you too, and I tried to drown out that fear by drinking. Didn't help, of course, just meant I stayed asleep when the nightmares started. I kept thinking that I was going to be the only one left, that I was going to fail you as a father, and I wasn't sure I could handle that. The nightmares eventually went away, but they started up again a few years later…"

"When all the supernatural stuff started in our lives, because we were both in danger all the time," Stiles said, nodding his head, his expression a mixture of pain and understanding. "You're not a failure dad, you know that, right?"

"Something must have gone right, kiddo, because you turned out to be a pretty ok young man," the older Stilinski grinned, ruffling his son's hair again.

Stiles blushed and tried to suppress a grin, flailing to get his father to stop messing with his hair and focus. "So, each time, the transformation tunnels were connected to past pain," he said, shifting back to a serious tone.

"What else?" the former Sheriff queried. Stiles remained silent for a few minutes while he thought.

"And each time they did something to slow us down or try to prevent us from being reunited with the person in pain and taking the pain away," the younger Stilinski finally replied. "With Isaac, we were shrunk and started turning into mice, so we couldn't intervene or talk to him. He even briefly forgot us; Scott had to alpha remind him. With Ethan, he was de-aged so that he felt helpless to stop what was happening to him and he also forgot he had people he could rely on. And with you, we lost our ability to show you that we are here and prove we are real, that you aren't alone. And you forgot what really happened to us."

"So, what does all of that mean?" Scott asked from the doorway where he and Derek stood, having wandered back in after noticing the conversation at hand.

"It means that these tunnels aren't random," Stiles said with a look of determination. "Whoever is doing this is specifically targeting us, our Pack, in the hopes of slowing us down or preventing us from reconnecting with everyone. They want us to stay separated and stuck in pain or grief. And, specifically, they want us to forget about each other and our connections to the Pack as a whole." Noah reached over to place a hand on his son's shoulder in an attempt to ease some of the building tension. Stiles was practically vibrating with anger and frustration, but he settled down in response to the comfort from his father.

"So, we have yet another enemy down here," Derek said with a frown. "Does it change anything for us?"

"No," Scott answered, catching both Stilinski's by surprise, "our goal is the same as before: find our friends and bring them back to life. We just have to watch out for these things, and whoever is responsible for them."

"That makes sense," interjected Isaac, who had also wandered up behind his alpha and former alpha. "We've broken through each of them so far, so the only thing it's really done is slow us down a bit."

"Speaking of which," Theo called out from down the hall, "we should probably get moving. I don't think it's a good idea to just hang out here. I feel like we're being watched."

"I agree," Scott replied, turning to face the chimera briefly before returning his gaze to his best friend and then the man that was most like a father to him, "we should get going. We still have a lot of our friends to find. Sheriff, will you join us?"

"Of course, Scott," Noah replied, "though I'm not the sheriff of this town anymore."

"You will be soon," Stiles said with a look that brokered no room for argument.

"Can we go now?" Malia interjected, shoving her way between Scott and Derek. "No offense Stiles, but your Hell house is creepy."

"Limbo house," Stiles corrected.

"Whatever…it's weird, and I want to get out of here," she retorted.

"Lead the way," Stiles replied with a laugh and a shake of the head. "But through the back door!" he called out as she barreled back through Scott and Derek, "we don't want to have the transformation magic put on us again!" Malia quickly turned and darted for the door to the backyard, throwing it open and rushing outside.

"Finally!" she exclaimed as the rest followed after her, the Stilinski's bringing up the rear. The former sheriff hesitated, reaching for his pocket before realizing he didn't have any keys to lock the door with.

"It's ok dad," Stiles said quietly, "It's not really our home." His father looked a little lost for a moment, before nodding his head and following after the others.

"Where to next?" Braeden asked, once more inspecting her various weapons for signs of damage or dirt.

"Back into town," Scott answered, "I know I caught Boyd's scent on the way here, and Malia believes Deaton is around here too."

"If Boyd is here, the best place to check first would be the ice-skating rink," Isaac said cheerfully, turning to lead the way through the backyard.

He had barely taken three steps before Scott shouted after him, "Isaac, look out!" as a bullet came screaming through the air and tearing straight through the curly-haired wolf's shoulder. The force of the bullet knocked Isaac to the ground as a scream tore from his lips.

"Sniper!" Braeden shouted, already pulling up a rifle she had strapped to her back so she could peer through its scope.

"Take cover!" Noah shouted at the same time, grabbing his son and Derek and half-dragging them back towards the side of the house. The sounds of more bullets flying through the air caught their ears as the rest dove for shelter among the bushes or against the side of the house.

"We're surrounded!" Aiden called out from underneath a shrub where he, his brother, and Jackson had all hidden.

"Isaac!" Scott screamed again, shifting to beta form and diving after his injured packmate, grabbing him under the arms and dragging him to safety next to Stiles and the others. Derek dropped to the ground next to him, ripping through the remnants of Isaac's shirt with his claws to get a look at the wound, and quickly reeling back.

"They have wolfsbane bullets!" he shouted to the others, grimacing as he started to take some of Isaac's pain, the younger wolf struggling not to cry as he thrashed around for a moment. Malia shifted to full coyote form, Theo following suit with his full wolf form, and the two stealthily darted into the trees behind the house.

Braeden lined her rifle up carefully, having come around to the other side of the house and taken shelter under the awning of the garage. She fired a shot, grinning in satisfaction as the bullet hit her mark. "That's one down," she called out, swinging the rifle across her back to dart to the tree line herself.

"There's still too many!" Hayden shouted in response from her position behind one of the nearby trees.

"Not for long!" Stiles called back, quickly shifting into his demon form and taking to the sky. Hayden quickly followed his example, tearing off to skirt the tree line towards a house further up the road.

"Stiles, what are you doing? Get back here!" his father shouted as bullets began whizzing through the air from all directions aimed at the demon who ignored it all in favor of flying towards another sniper situated on a roof two houses down the street.

"Sheriff, Derek, get Isaac back inside the house. Find something to burn the wolfsbane out," Scott said before darting back out to where Jackson and the twins were pinned down.

"You heard the man," Derek said as he shifted to get Isaac up off the ground, half carrying the injured wolf while Noah led the way back to the door. A snarl and a scream echoed across the yard as wolf-Theo dragged another sniper to the ledge of a nearby roof and threw the man unceremoniously to the ground. Halfway down the street Demon-Stiles was swooping down to crash into his chosen opponent while across the street Malia dragged yet another hunter out of hiding, his ankle twisted in her mouth.

"Scott, there's more of them coming from the other side of town," Braeden shouted, her gaze focused through the scope of her rifle as she took aim once more.

"What's the plan, Scott?" Ethan asked, scrambling out from under the shrub and turning to help Jackson to his feet while their alpha helped Aiden.

"Hayden is getting the last of the snipers," Stiles added, landing ungracefully next to the quartet of wolves and shifting back into human form. "But there are at least a couple dozen more hunters heading this way from the center of town too. We're going to be surrounded again if we stay here."

"We can't move until Isaac is healed enough though," Scott replied, eyes darting across the once peaceful neighborhood. "We can't leave him behind."

"Scott, Stiles, we need you inside!" Derek's voice interrupted them.

"You guys fan out, help the others and hold off the hunters as best you can," Scott directed to Jackson and the twins before turning and racing off towards the house.

"Stay safe!" Stiles added before turning to follow. The trio ran towards the gap between the houses, meeting Braeden there to decide how best to attack the incoming forces. Scott reached the house first, scrambling inside before stopping in his tracks. Stiles arrived a few seconds later, barreling into his best friend and almost knocking them both to the ground. "Whoa, what happened?"

"Everything's gone," his father answered. He stood in the center of the empty dining room with Isaac huddled on the floor at his feet whimpering in pain.

"I've checked every room, closet, cabinet," Derek continued, running back into the room from the kitchen. "There's nothing here. No furniture, no tools, nothing."

"Then there's no way to get rid of the wolfsbane," Scott finished, dropping to his knees in front of his injured beta and grabbing his hand in order to drain some of the pain.

"Keep him comfortable and…alive, for a few more minutes," Stiles said, dropping to the floor as well and pulling the bag of dust out of his pocket. "I'm not going to lose anyone else," he whispered, barely audible even to the wolves' supernatural hearing. Without another word he began to draw intricate runes and patterns in the dust, humming slightly to himself as he went.

"I'll check to see how the others are doing outside," the elder Stilinski said, watching his son work for just a moment before heading towards the living room to peek through the window, drawing his gun as he did so. The sounds of gunshots and growls could be heard echoing down the street from both directions as the battle outside raged on. Derek wordlessly sat next to Scott and Isaac, placing a gentle hand on his former beta's shoulder and adding to the pain-drain. Isaac sighed in relief, his trembling slowing enough for him to regain control of his limbs and open his eyes.

"I'm sorry…I should have been…more careful," Isaac whispered, turning his gaze from Derek to Scott and back again.

"It's not your fault Isaac," Scott interjected quickly. "I should have checked to see that the way was clear."

"It's not your fault either Scott," Derek said with a huff. "We all let our guard down, and we were ambushed. It was a simple mistake."

"It's gonna be ok, though," Scott continued after exchanging glances with the older wolf. "You'll be back in the real world with the others, and soon the rest of us will be there too."

"I'll be waiting," Isaac coughed out, black blood spilling from his mouth onto the floor.

"Alright, move him into the center of the circle," Stiles said, standing back up and facing the others. Derek and Scott obeyed, carefully lifting the broken wolf and gently placing him on the floor in the center of the ring of runes Stiles had created. The demon/druid began to chant, hands lifted up, as a telltale gust of wind began sweeping through the room. When he finished, he stepped into the ring to kneel down next to Isaac and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You take care of yourself, ok?"

Isaac nodded, ever the embodied picture of a kicked puppy. "When am I going to see you again?" he whispered, hopeful eyes boring into the young man next to him.

Stiles let out a long sigh before replying, shifting his position to sit on the ground and wrap his arms around his injured friend. "I don't know, buddy. It's hard to say what could happen down here," he said, a myriad of emotions all crossing his face at once.

"In that case, I want to tell you something," Isaac said, wincing as he moved to sit up a little better himself. He waited for Stiles to give him his full attention before continuing. "When we were in school, I had the biggest crush on you…"

"Wait, what?!" Stiles interrupted, jaw hanging open in surprise. Isaac laughed at the sight before wincing again, causing Stiles to snap his mouth closed and grimace in sympathy.

"Yeah, I'm bi…guess I should have started with that," Isaac continued. The whirlwind around them began to pick up speed, though both of them ignored it in favor of their conversation. "I was too nervous to say anything to you though. You were so cool and confident and entertaining; I was afraid you wouldn't like the quiet kid who got beat up by his own dad all the time." He trailed off, his expression forlorn for a moment.

"Isaac, I…" Stiles started before Isaac waved him off.

"It's ok, Stiles. You had your own stuff to worry about at the time, I understand. But, when Derek offered me the bite, I took it not just to get stronger and away from my dad, but also because I was hoping it would give me the strength to talk to you…for real, you know?" Isaac glanced back at Stiles before collapsing back on his unhurt side.

"So why didn't you?" Stiles asked when Isaac didn't continue.

"I…" Isaac began, hesitating to look at his former alpha, who stood off to the side watching the two closely, though it was obvious he couldn't hear what was said above the noise of the wind. "I was going too, and then I realized that you already liked someone else," he said meaningfully, gesturing with his head at the man in question, "someone who really likes you too."

"What, Derek?" Stiles laughed, flailing a bit as he did so. "No! We're just friends…just, good friends is…all," he practically deflated at the look Isaac gave him. "Alright fine, I like Derek. But he doesn't like me back, at least not that way…" he stopped again at another purposeful glace from the wolf. "Really?"

"Of course he likes you," Isaac said with a huff. "Anyone with eyes can see it. All of us can _smell_ it," he said with a wink, causing Stiles to groan and blush. Isaac paused as a spasm of pain gripped him for a second, then continued, "and I think you two will be good for each other, once all of this is over."

"Maybe," Stiles said thoughtfully, almost sadly. Isaac gave him an inquisitive look, prompting him to continue. "Derek's not going to be very happy with me when this is all over. Scott either. Or you, as far as that goes."

"Why? You're bringing everyone back to life and together. What could they possibly be mad about?" Isaac asked with his trademark puppy eyes boring into the older boy.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, at least not yet. But do me a favor?" Stiles answered, giving Isaac an unreadable look, who simply returned it with a nod of his head. "Look after them, and help them get over it, please?"

"Yeah, I'll do whatever I can to help…" Isaac said before another coughing fit interrupted and he had to quickly turn away to spit more black blood on the floor. Stiles kept a firm grip on him, giving him support until the fit subsided.

"Thank you, pup. You're a really good friend, and I'm glad you are a part of this Pack," Stiles said once Isaac had turned back around. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on the wolf's forehead and causing him to blush slightly. Before Isaac could respond, the whirlwind reached its climax, catapulting him upwards through the ceiling in a flash of lightning. "Goodbye, Isaac," Stiles whispered softly, almost mournfully, as Derek and Scott stepped forward to help him back to his feet.

"Are you ok?" Scott asked, searching his best friend all over.

"Yeah, its just…hard to say goodbye," Stiles replied, turning his eyes back towards the spot, no remnant of the wolf remaining, not even a drop of blood, and only a scattering of dust showing that anything had happened. Derek watched him thoughtfully, his forehead creased slightly in concern with a frown adorning his face.

"But at least this time its not forever, right? We'll meet up with him again in a few days, once all of this is over," Scott said, tilting his head to give Stiles a confused look.

"Yeah, you're right," Stiles eventually answered, finally meeting his friend's gaze.

"Guys, don't get comfy. We have company!" Noah shouted from the living room, drawing his gun and running for the back door.

-o-

She remained hidden in the shadows, stealthily observing the group of werecreatures and friends from far enough away that they would not be able to sense her presence. Being part aswang gave her an extra advantage in that regard; unless they were really paying attention, they shouldn't notice her. She had reached the end of the Dread Doctor's tunnels not long after the last of them had crawled up through the storm drain into Limbo Beacon Hills, which made it almost too easy to follow them and eavesdrop on their conversations. The "plan" seemed absurd to Nora; there was no way this ragtag band of misfits could possibly be powerful enough to resurrect the dead from the world of the dead. Even the Doctors were struggling to come up with a way to do it, and they'd spent years studying the most occult and forbidden means of mastering life and death.

No matter, whether they believed they could succeed or not was irrelevant. Her task was simply to observe, unseen, from the shadows, and then report back to the ones who would actually accomplish the unimaginable. Nora followed them through the forest towards the school, remaining hidden in the upper branches of a tree as another alpha werewolf, whom they called Gerard, accosted them. Apparently, he and this group had history together, though the arguing seemed rather petty in her eyes. Gerard ordered a kanima to attack them before disappearing through a hidden portal in the wall of the high school. That was a little more interesting; he was clearly a clever, resourceful old man. The Doctors might be interested in him. She watched as the group split into sections, some fighting the kanima while others took on a slew of hunters that appeared over the horizon. The timing on that was a little too good to be coincidental in her opinion, but still, in the long run what the dead hunters did in this world would be as irrelevant as the rest.

The "Pack" managed to hold off the attack long enough to escape, Nora quietly trailing behind them. She listened from a distance as they found another friend of theirs, Malia, and argued amongst themselves about morals. _So foolish,_ she thought to herself, _what use is there for arbitrary rules that hinder one's progress?_ She sighed, bored, as they debated for a bit before finally taking back off through town, towards a house that supposedly resembled the former dwelling place of the one the Doctors were so interested in. She still didn't quite see the appeal in him; being able to transform into a demon certainly gave him strength, but there were other, easier ways to do that as well.

She remained hidden in the shadows as the group trekked into the house, allowing a magical spell to be placed on them and displace their consciousness from their corporeal selves. _Idiots,_ she grumbled as she listened to their panicked outcries and discussions on how to rectify the situation. _This is turning into a waste of time, these people are nothing but amateurs in the supernatural world._ Finally, they broke the spell by overloading it with emotional connection. _Crude, but effective,_ she thought to herself as she settled in to listen to the conversation between father and son. She learned a few interesting tidbits of information, more details about their plans and what they hoped to accomplish. It was all a little too altruistic for her tastes. She watched as the snipers placed themselves into position on the nearby rooftops as well. _This should be interesting; this pack may be powerful, but they are mind-numbingly daft if they haven't sensed the presence of all of these guys yet._

She watched with grim satisfaction as the first bullet struck, the smell of wolfsbane wafting across the yard to her hiding spot. _Well, that one is lost,_ she thought, unsure if she should be rooting for the McCall Pack or the ones attacking them. But they apparently weren't quite ready to give up on their fallen friend just yet, and a moment later a group of them, the core leaders by the looks of it, had all gathered with the injured wolf inside the house. She crept closer, keeping to the shadows, so she could hear better and observe through the now broken window.

What she saw caught her by surprise and momentarily stunned her speechless. The demon-possessed boy was also a druid, and he had mastered a ritual that was believed to have been impossible. The Doctors had ruled it out as ever being an option because the conditions needed to make it work were so specific there was no way it could ever truly succeed. _What is this creature?_ She thought in wonder, _and where did he learn such power?_ She watched, breathless, as the injured wolf was taken away in a bolt of lightning, and stayed just long enough to receive confirmation that the group leaders all believed their Packmate was now safe and secure in the world of the living. _I have to report back,_ she thought before scrambling away to the trees behind the house and making a beeline for the nearest storm drain that could lead her to the Dread Doctor's lair. _My Masters are going to be so pleased to hear what I have to tell them._

-o-

Stiles, his father, Derek, and Scott all raced out the back door and around to the side of the house, meeting Braeden and Hayden there. Jackson, Aiden, and Ethan were all further down the street, locked in a vicious battle with about a dozen hunters who had all arrived on the scene. At the other end of the street, Malia and Theo could be seen tearing claws and fangs through another group of hunters marching on their location.

"We're outnumbered Scott…again," Braeden said with disdain as she watched the alpha approach.

"Stiles, can you give us a little recon?" Scott asked, turning to his best friend.

"I'm on it," Stiles replied, shifting rapidly into demon form and taking to the skies once more.

"That…is going to take a lot of getting used to," Noah said to himself as he watched his son transform and fly away.

"Tell me about it," Derek snorted, catching the look the former sheriff gave him and quickly averting his eyes back to their alpha. They watched the battles taking place around them, Hayden darting into the fray to help Malia before she could be hit with a stun baton.

"What happened to Isaac? Did we lose him?" Braeden asked, trying to mask her concern for the young wolf, though the others weren't fooled.

"We couldn't get the wolfsbane out, but Stiles was able to send him back to the real world," Scott replied. "He's alive now, and safe with the others."

"That's…good; incredible actually," Braeden said, the barest hint of a smile forming before she schooled her features back into her normal, neutral expression. A moment later the demon/druid returned, transforming back into human form.

"There's got to be at least fifty more coming from the south side of town," Stiles said hurriedly, already on the move and beckoning the others to follow him. "The snipers are gone, and no one has replaced them, but I could see a few large and mildly terrifying weapons being dragged along behind the group that's heading our way. Honestly, I have no idea where they are getting all of this stuff; it's not like there is a store you can go to or a manufacturer you can place an order with. Yet, here they are…"

"Stiles, get to the point," Noah interjected before he could ramble any more.

"Right, right, sorry," the younger man replied, distracted. "Our best bet is going to be to cut a path through the middle. If we can get back to downtown, I'm pretty sure we can lose the rest of them in all the shops and stuff. But we need to move, now, and we need to make sure we aren't followed."

"Ok, Stiles, I trust you," Scott said, sincerely, sharing a look with his second in command before letting out a low rumble heard by all of the supernaturals, summoning them back to him. As one, they all turned and raced after their alpha, cutting a path through the backyards of the nearby houses and leaping over several fences. Stiles returned to demon form, grabbing Braeden in one arm and his father in the other, the two providing a cover of gunshots aimed at the hunters trailing after them. With supernatural speed, the group quickly lost the men and women following them, and they slowed to stop on the outskirts of an old shopping center.

"Here, I thought you might want these," Jackson said, handing a wad of material to Theo and Malia as they switched back to human forms.

"Thanks," Theo replied, somewhat embarrassed to be naked around all of the others and quickly moving to slip his clothes back on. Malia just shrugged and accepted hers as well, putting them on at a more leisurely pace while the others talked.

"I think we lost them," Scott said, holding a hand up for silence as he listened for the sounds of any footsteps in the area. "At least, I don't hear anyone nearby."

"There's something going on over that way, though," Aiden added, pointing in the direction opposite from the one they had come from. Those with supernatural hearing could hear the sounds of machinery running and something else they couldn't quite place.

"It's Boyd and Erica!" Derek exclaimed suddenly, breath catching in his throat. He took off towards their location without waiting for the others, who quickly chased after him. The group rounded a corner, stopping at the entrance to the Ice Rink Boyd had once worked at while alive. "Is it another trick?" Derek asked, afraid of getting too hopeful.

"I suppose there's only one way to find out," Stiles replied, placing a hand on the older man's shoulder gently, nudging him forward.

"Stiles, Derek, and I will go in," Scott said, turning to the rest of the group. "Everyone else, keep a lookout for hunters or other traps. I don't want a repeat of what happened to Isaac." They all nodded before spreading out to take defensive positions around the building, Jackson and Theo scaling the fire escape to take watch from the roof.

The trio of Derek, Scott, and Stiles cautiously made their way towards the entrance, pausing to let the druid of the group check for magic tunnels and spells first. Assured that they were in the clear, they pushed their way forward. The scent of loneliness and depression hit the wolves' senses life a tsunami, rolling off the ice in front of them. As they got closer, they realized the sound of machinery they'd noticed earlier was Boyd, riding atop the old Zamboni in the center of the skating rink. They could practically feel the young wolf's haunted emotions as they approached him, calling out his name. Boyd turned to stare at them with empty, vacant eyes, an unrecognizable shell of the man he had once been.

"I really wish Isaac was still here," Derek said, distraught, "he always knew how to get through to Boyd."

"Well, now its your turn," Stiles said jovially, pushing the man out onto the ice with a laugh as Derek struggled to maintain his balance and slid several feet towards the man and the machine in the middle. He turned to glare at his laughing friend, muttering something under his breath that Stiles couldn't hear. Scott simply watched them both, unsure if he should be amused or upset by their antics.

"Boyd…are you there? I need you to focus," Derek called out as he continued to inch his way closer to his former beta. The younger wolf continued to work, unfazed and apparently unaware that others were there with him. "Boyd! Can you hear me?!" Derek shouted as loud as he dared to without drawing unwanted attention. It still had no effect on the man though. Derek reached out to shake Boyd's shoulder, but even the physical touch seemed not to register. It was as though everything that made Boyd who he was had been hollowed out, leaving nothing but this outer, vacant shell behind.

"Derek?" a voice called out suddenly from somewhere deeper in the ice rink, causing the trio to glance nervously around them. "Derek!" the voice called out again, louder and strained.

"Wait, that's Erica!" Scott said, turning to face the direction the voice had come from.

"Yeah, you're right," Derek replied, sliding across the ice towards a hallway marked 'employees only' off to the side. "Erica!" he called out, "hold on, I'm coming!" Scott and Stiles followed, the latter of the two chuckling slightly.

"What are you laughing about?" Scott asked with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

"Oh…nothing," Stiles answered, suppressing more laughter. "I'm just happy we found her is all. Do you think it will be alright leaving Boyd out here by himself?"

"We'll still be able to hear him," Scott said, glancing back to watch the young man in question, still driving his machine around and unaware of the rest of the world around him. "What do you think is going on with him anyway? This isn't…normal."

"I'm not sure," Stiles replied, scrunching his nose in contemplation. "Maybe Erica will be able to give us a clue." They caught up with Derek at the entrance to a maintenance room in the back of the building. Erica was there, trapped in a tangle of wires and metal beams pinning her to the far wall.

"What happened to you, Catwoman?" Stiles asked, taking in the mess of mangled steel and copper all around her.

"A demon happened to me," she spat angrily, eyes glowing golden. "It's about time you guys showed up, I was starting to lose my mind!"

"Starting to?" Stiles questioned, giving her an appraising look and trying to hide the smile on his face.

"Shut up!" she retorted, though there was no malice behind the words. "Just get me out of here already!" The three of them got to work, cutting through wires with claws and bending metal with supernatural strength. Within a few minutes, Erica was free and dashing forward to wrap each of them in a crushing hug in turn. "Now, someone tell me what is going on!"

"Well, Erica," Stiles began mischievously, "welcome to…"

"Stiles, I'll rip your throat out if you finish that sentence," Derek grumbled, smacking the younger man playfully upside the head.

"…Hell," Stiles replied, sticking his tongue out at Derek before darting out of the way of another smack. "And you forgot the 'with my teeth' part. The threat's not nearly as effective without it."

"Boys!" Erica shouted, interrupting them before they could go any further in their bickering. "Seriously, someone tell me what's going on." Scott took over, explaining what had happened since Erica was captured by the alpha pack. She interjected a number of times, surprised to find out that Scott was now the alpha instead of Derek, that the Pack had grown so much since her death, but also that so many others had also died. She was astounded by the revelation of the plan to bring everyone back to life, stopping Scott midsentence to knock Stiles to the ground in a crushing hug. "You're the best Batman in the world!" she cried happily, before eventually helping him back to his feet and allowing Scott to continue telling their story.

The group made their way back out to the center rink as Scott finished, taking in the fact that Boyd still sat atop the Zamboni, silently resurfacing the ice. "Do you know what happened to him?" Derek asked Erica as they watched somberly from the sideline.

"Not really," she replied, devastated at the sight. "The demon just showed up out of nowhere and grabbed me. I started kicking and screaming and Boyd jumped in to help, but then the demon put his hand on Boyd's head and said something I couldn't understand. The next thing I know, Boyd goes completely slack and gets this weird look in his eye before walking over to that machine and starting to ride it around the ice. I shouted his name, growled at him, tried to connect to him through the pack bond, everything I could think of, but he just ignored me. Then the demon dragged me to that closet and trapped me there before just walking away. I've been stuck ever since."

"That's so strange," Stiles said, looking lost in thought. "But if its demon magic that is keeping him looked away from true consciousness, I think I know how to counter it."

"Really?" Erica asked, incredulous, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I know you're resourceful and all, but how much can you really have learned about demon magic?"

"Plenty," Stiles grinned, transforming into demon form and laughing as she jumped backwards. Scott had neglected to tell her about this when they were talking earlier. "I had a really good teacher." Derek groaned at Stiles' antics and took over explaining to Erica while Demon-Stiles ambled over to Boyd, inspecting him with a critical eye. "Hmmm," he murmured, lost in thought once again. He walked around the Zamboni, careful to not be hit as Boyd steered it in a slow circle, before reaching over and shutting the machine off. Without the rumble, the room became almost deathly quiet, all eyes focused on Boyd, who didn't react to the intervention. Stiles slowly dragged him off of the contraption, placing him on the ice where Boyd stood rigidly still, staring at the wall. The demon/druid placed a hand on Boyd's head, closing his eyes as he concentrated on something. He whispered, the words foreign and unintelligible to the other wolves; his eyes flashing silver for a brief moment before both he and Boyd recoiled as though shocked. Stiles transformed back into human form as Boyd finally regained true consciousness.

"Whoa, what just happened?" the wolf asked, staring around at the others.

Erica bounded forward before anyone else could respond, wrapping her arms around him and tearfully shouting, "Boyd, you came back!" Stiles grinned in satisfaction while Scott watched with a lopsided, pleased look on his face. Derek practically beamed, however, ecstatic that the last of his former betas was now accounted for, though he would never truly admit it.

-o-

"What did you think you were doing?!" she screamed, stomping forward to shove him against the wall.

"Gaining another powerful ally," Gerard replied, flashing his alpha red eyes at her and forcing her to release her grip on his collar. "It was tactical."

"It was reckless," she replied with a huff, "letting Scott know you are here, and that you are an alpha werewolf, before we are ready to attack him. I mean, seriously, are you trying to get us all killed again?" She shook her head, exasperated, before turning to walk back down the tunnel, Gerard keeping step with her. "Tell me it was successful, at least," she commanded, sneering at the lizard creature following dutifully after the old man.

"I should think that would be obvious," Gerard replied, glancing back at the kanima, "but I could command him to kill someone for you, if it would put my dear daughter's mind at ease."

"Hilarious," Kate Argent retorted, shaking her head in exasperation and picking up her pace slightly. "You've already killed me once; you're an absolute idiot if you think I'll let you do it again." She turned back to her father, exposing her claws and fangs and growling slightly to get her point across.

"And you killed me," he said, calmly watching the display of aggression. "I would say that we are even in that department. Besides, we are worth far more to each other alive and together in this realm then we are separate or split between this and the next realm of the dead."

"Which is the only reason I haven't killed you again already," she muttered under her breath, turning back to face the direction they were headed. The tunnels here were long and winding, the air stale and musty from apparent years of disuse.

"Besides," Gerard continued, ignoring the jab, "I left plenty of hunters back in town to keep McCall and his friends busy. By the time they realize what is really going on, it'll be far too late to stop us." She simply shook her in exasperation, trudging on in silence for a few minutes.

"Well, I got to hand it to ya, if nothing else you've been ruthless with that one at least," Kate replied, pointing. The tunnel they had traversed opened up onto a balcony of sorts overlooking a large cavern. Below them, on the ground, stood a bloodied and beaten Liam, held in place by two beta wolves from the pack of former hunters. Along the wall beside them stood a row of scared and trembling humans, all wide-eyed and distraught because of the scene in front of them. And in the middle of the cavern, directing it all like an orchestra conductor, stood Araya Calaveras. The former matriarch of the hunters had a wicked gleam in her eye as she appraised the young wolf in front of her.

"My, my, lobito, I must say I am impressed. Such bravery from one so young. If you had been a hunter, I would have perhaps even been proud of you," she sneered.

"Why are you doing this?" Liam cried out, trying not to wince in pain. "You all are werewolves too now. What's the point?"

"The point, little wolf, is that we still live by the code, and die by the code, no matter what the circumstances," Araya replied, pausing to survey the room once more.

"Your code is stupid!" Liam shouted, anger rising and causing him to beta shift, "I've never done anything to you! My pack has never hurt anyone. All we've ever done is fight to survive and ask to be accepted! Why won't you leave us alone?"

"You are foolishly naïve if that is what you really believe," she said with disdain, turning to another hunter-turned-wolf next to her. "Tell me Severo, what do you think of this one over here?" she asked, pointing at a young boy in the line up along the wall. The boy squeaked, backing away until he hit the rock and curling in on himself in a feeble attempt to become less noticeable.

"I don't know, maybe 3 minutes," Severo replied, a grin on his face.

"3?" Araya asked, evidently surprised, "I think you are being too generous, Severo. I doubt he would last more than 2."

"Would you like me to find out?" he asked, grin widening as he cracked his knuckles.

"No!" Liam shouted, interrupting their conversation.

"That was very rude, lobito. You should wait your turn to speak," Araya chided him, turning back to face the beta with another look of disdain.

"Leave him alone, he didn't do anything to you," the young wolf replied, struggling to free himself from the grip of the two holding him.

"That may be true," Araya said, looking thoughtfully at the boy in question, "but the problem here is not what he did do, but what he didn't do. Isn't that right, chico?"

"I…I don't…I don't know…what you're talking…about," the boy stammered, eyes darting around all over the cavern, hoping for some means of escape.

"Of course you do," Araya continued, "you shared so many classes with them all, did you not?"

"I…I…I guess so," he stuttered. Liam could tell that, if he had still had a heartbeat, it would be dangerous fast and erratic at the moment.

"So why is it, that when the peacekeepers asked for your help, you denied them?" Araya asked, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"I…I couldn't…hunt the werewolves…they saved…me," the boy trembled as he spoke, the hint of tears welling up.

"Ahh," his interrogator sighed, shaking her head. "This generation is so foolish. Scott McCall did not save you like some hero. He saved himself. You were merely an added bonus." She paused, glancing back at Liam. "Why, just ask Senor Dunbar here. He knows all about what happens when Scott McCall comes to the rescue. After all, the lobito would never have needed saving, and never become a werewolf, if it wasn't for Scott McCall."

"That's a lie!" Liam shouted, furious. "Scott's a great alpha, and its not his fault that all this stuff happened. We did the best we could with what we knew." He looked away, shamed slightly by his memories.

"This is getting us nowhere," the Calaveras huntress sighed again. "Severo, let's put _that_ one to the test, see if you are right about him lasting three minutes."

"Noo!" Liam screamed, jumping forward in spite of the goons holding him while the boy actually collapsed to the ground in fear. "You can't kill him just because he didn't fight with the other hunters. That's not fair!"

"And what would a _wolf_ know of fairness?" Araya sneered.

"A hell of a lot more than any hunter!" Liam snapped back.

"Fine, if you think you are so morally superior," she said, voice going deathly quiet as a smirk crept onto her face. "I'll let you _choose._ The punishment is three minutes under the stun baton. We can either give it to that one," she jabbed a finger in the direction of the boy whimpering on the floor. "Or we can give it to you."

"I'll take it," Liam said defiantly, without hesitation.

"Good, good," Araya replied, smirk widening. "Severo…give the lobito his punishment. To the groin this time." She laughed as Liam gaped in horror and Severo ignited his stun baton, slowly advancing on the beta wolf. _Scott, please come find me,_ Liam pleaded silently.


End file.
